


THROBB XMAS WEEK Collection

by TotemundTabu



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-09 13:44:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 31,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8892934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TotemundTabu/pseuds/TotemundTabu
Summary: The collection of the 7 works for the Throbb Xmas Week ! Every chapter contains a different story. The main ship is always Throbb and at the start of each chapter there will the the quick summary, the rating confirm and added tags in case of necessity. Enjoy with eggnog and love!





	1. Persephone and the pretty shop clerk

**#2 – The Perfect Present – R** **  
**

What do you do when your mother begs you to be nicely, elegantly dressed at the Christmas party but you only own jeans and lumberjack shirts? Well, if you go to the right shop, you may meet a very charming tailor with a weakness for redheads.

Additional tags: Mutual pinning, Dorks - Secondary Characters: Asha Greyjoy

* * *

 

**Persephone and the pretty shop clerk**

 

* * *

 

She begged him to.

What was he supposed to do, after that?

He sighed, gave up, then accepted his fate miserably and resigned to one of his worst nightmares: elegant suit shopping.

His mother's request was clear after all and she admitted no refusal; so there he was, in front of Needles and Buttons, his skin crawling at the idea, trying to prepare himself.

It's not that he loathed shopping, but elegant suits just weren't his thing – they felt uncomfortable, he couldn't move easily, they made him sweat slightly, he felt like he was wrapped in wax... - and the idea of having someone taking his measures, fixing it on him sounded really overly-invasive of his personal space.

“Why can't people have a Christmas Eve Dinner in jeans and a t-shirt?”, he mumbles to himself, pushing the door.

A tall woman with blond hair in a chignon and a tight anonymous black suit turns to him and her pupils become the size of Antarctica as if she saw the king of hopeless causes. She calls in quickly a colleague, a boy, and directs him towards Robb.

Honestly, at this point Robb is considering stealing one of his father's never-once-worn suits and pretending he got it.

Then, he freezes.

The boy is damn cute. And Robb can feel all his repressed hormones as a teenager in the closet burst through his veins and ride up his spine electrically.

Well, fuck.

Tall, dark, long haired, big smirk, confident eyes... Robb was sold.

“May I help you?”

“Ah... my... mom...”

He raises an eyebrow, slightly amused, “You are a bit tall for being lost.”

“...no, I mean, she... she asked me to get a suit, but I have no idea where to start.”

The boy gives a quick look to his lumberjack shirt and blue jeans and nods to himself, “I see...”

“I, umh. - Robb tries to not focus on the little bun of hair from which a couple of locks fall out softly and caress the boy's neck – I was thinking something classic but... not uncomfortable?”

“Are you sure? We have an amazing offer on straitjackets. - he mocks him ever so slightly, with a weird pinch of a flirty after taste – Come with me, we will pick something that won't disappoint your mother and won't make you feel like a wall street slave.”

He glances quickly at the golden nametag: Theon.

Fancy, if not old school. He likes how it sounds, somehow.

Robb sits on a big sofa with black leather so soft that he for a moment wonders if it's human skin, and stares around awkwardly, while the boy stares at his hair and his skin tone a bit.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen a natural redhead. - he comments jokingly, extracting a soft measuring tape and checking his shoulders – It's going to be funny.”

“If finding clothes for someone can be funny...”

A chuckle, “At least nobody will stop you in the parking lot asking for freshly cut wood after this.”

Robb snorts, “I usually just get mistaken for a hipster.”

“Not enough of a beard for such an outrageous mistake.”

He laughs, then stands up to let Theon take more measures, around his arms, then his hips – his hands feel hard and firm, not as soft and delicate as Robb would have imagined, but he was not about to complain, at all – and then Theon crouched and measured his legs. Robb stares a bit at the top of the head, then turns towards the ceiling stubbornly, caught red-handed in absolutely inappropriate thoughts.

Theon looks up, as he notices how much he stiffened.

He figures he should try to make him relax.

“May I ask you something personal? - Robb turns slightly and nods – When did you find out you were colour-blind?”

Theon seems weirdly pleased when Robb snorts and relaxes suddenly. He smiles, in an not decode able mix of smug and tenderness.

“I'd go for a black jacket and pants and a colourful shirt. I'll bring you something that will look fresh, but charming enough for your mother not to force a tie on you.”

“...that would be immensely appreciated.”

He smiles, “I figured.”

Robb can't move his eyes from the way Theon's lips move.

“Which is your favorite color?”

“Ah, umh, grey, I think.”

“Grey? - he frowns, chuckling slightly – That's a first. But I'll need a colour for your shirt.”

“Then I suppose blue.”

“On the sapphire side or the aquamarine one?”

Robb raises an eyebrow, perplexed, “You... do you really suppose I know the difference?”

“Not that it matters. Black and blue is a no-no.”

“Are you always so blunt with clients?”

“With the ones who like to be bossed around. - he smiles, getting some shirts – But no, I just feel your mother would truly appreciate you to come home with something actually nice.”

He places on a chair near Robb three shirts: one is a pale lilac which reminded Robb of the old wisteria flowers outside the river house where his grandparents lived, and he thinks it would remind his mother of the same... or maybe it wouldn't but it would make her happy without her knowing why; the second is the colour of cranberries against the snow as red as red can be, as bloody and as sweet, so turgid in its bright intensity it made Robb think of all the poems when it's the colour of passion; the third was a colour Robb remembered seeing in history books but he couldn't remember where... it was an indescribable shade between wine red and a bruised purple, almost royal and almost raw – he thinks of Persephone's neck stained with pomegranate juice.

He is unsure as to why something so gloomy and so ancient should come to his mind while buying clothes.

Actually, he is somehow happy to be there.

Theon is funny and cute and it's making this experience way less bad than Robb imagined.

...and, maybe, maybe there was a little chance for them to be both playing on the same team?

He just realizes how creepy it'd be to hit on a worker during his shift and panics internally.

Theon seems to catch him spacing out, but doesn't comment, rather he finds him a nice black suit and smiles, “Unsure of the colours?”

“Ah, no, no. - he puts his hands on his shirt’s button – I’ll try them, I'm sure they’re fine.”

Theon's eyes widen in surprise.

He puts a hand on Robb's and the boy jolts, almost startled.

It almost burnt. It almost stung.

Theon stares at him, confused but not with any annoyance, rather like you'd look at a cat trying to kill a laser light on the wall.

“George of the Jungle, here in the city, we use changing rooms.”

Robb flushes red, “Ah... - he grabs the clothes Theon prepared, flustered – I know, I, umh, will return immediately. I'm so sorry.”

“It's just our policy, I'm sorry, after the 90s nudists got banned.”

“Did they ever tell you that you are too funny to be a client assistant?”

“Usually they use “sarcastic” and it's not a compliment. - he brushes something away from Robb's shoulder – But thank you. You are funny too, when you don't try to get naked in the common space.”

“I'm sure it's not the weirdest thing you’ve ever seen.”

“I don't know, I mean, depends what you have down there, you could be sporting Nyancat underwear.”

Robb smiles, “I promise, I’m not.”

“Thank god, or I would have had to get you some, that poor suit deserves better.”

“Then I should be commando under.”, Robb laughs, not realizing what he said.

Sometimes, a joke sounded funny in his head and he forgot he was saying it to people and people could stare in his face and that, you know, real life was a thing and it was not a tv show where you can make a stupid dick joke and nobody will hold you responsible 15 seconds after.

Theon blinks and Robb, panicking, steps back quickly, searching for repair in the changing room, almost tripping.

Theon stares a bit at the curtains, smirking and chuckling as he can see Robb's feet almost tripping again and the top of his red hair – he really is tall... nice.

“Hey, wasn't your turn over?”

Theon doesn't turn, he just sighs, “Yes, last client and then I go.”

“Great. Can I wait here?”

“... do you have again combat boots completely dirty with mud?”

“Perhaps.”

“Asha. - he sighs, turning – Don't cost me the job... is that a skull on your T-shirt?”

“It's a skull with a santa hat! - she grins – A bit Tim Burtonish, but very festive!”

Theon raises an eyebrow, “I have to help a kiddo get a suit before, do you mind waiting where you can't cost me the job?”

She peeks, a bit curious, following Theon's previous eyeline.

“Tall one? Auburn mane?”

“Yes.”

She blinks, unimpressed, “Cute?”

“Freckled...”

“You avoided answering.”

“I'm trying to work, Asha. - he sighs – Don't force me to call Charlotte and tell her to help you buy a pencil skirt.”

She puts her hand on her chest and makes a deformed grimace in horror and shock.

“You would never do it!”

“Don't test me... go.”, he tilts his head.

“Okay, okay, I'm not gonna be here watching you and the guy awkwardly flirting... I'll be on the other side enjoying it without embarrassing you two.”

“... you embarrass me regardless.”

“I love you too!”

“Theon? - a scared little whine comes from inside the changing room – I, umh, I'm not sure how to ask... is there a larger size?”

Theon frowns, “Those were your measures... maybe you're just used to softer cuts?”

“No... emh, parts of me you didn't measure don't fit.”

Theon nods to himself, “And you had to tell me this after the commando joke...”

“I think I'm the same colour of the second shirt right now...”

“That's the only reason I'm sparing you from commenting. - he shakes his head, smiling – For now.”

“You're cruel although still funny!”, he half-yells, as he hears Theon going away to get a new pair.

When he returns, Robb is keeping his head against the walls, sighing at himself.

Theon blinks, seeing him a bit towards the space between curtains and wall.

“Are you fine?”

“I feel just a bit awkward.”

“Hey, adapting to the city is hard, George. - he smiles and Robb can see through the same space that it's a sweet smile – Try these ones, c'mon...”

“...is that your girlfriend?”, he blurts out staring at his socks.

Theon laughs, “Ew. She's my sister.”

“Oh, I'm sorry, I-”

“I don't date people who wear combat boots.”

Robb snorts, “I see... what about kilties?”

“I'll pretend I didn't hear that. - he smiles, looks at the converse in the corner of the changing room – I may make an exception for tennis shoes...”

Robb opens the curtains and shows off the suit with the first shirt. His eyes look so blue, Theon feels like he is a painting. He glances at the auburn reflections and smiles, “You look really handsome...”  
“Handsome?”

“A handsome young man. - he says, imitating an old lady’s voice – Do you think your mother would fancy this?”

“I'll try the red ones too... the one that looks like cranberries would be very holiday-like... and it would hide eventual stains.”

“Typical Christmas family dinner?”

“Not sure if typical. My mom's side is Irish catholic. - he smiles and returns in to change – Which is lucky because Scottish food, salmon excluded, is not the best tasting in the universe. And my father's side is... well, there aren’t many people, at least. My uncle Edmure, mother's brother, left home young and became a chef in Paris. He is asking since years to cook for this dinner, but my mom firmly refuses to let go, but I think this year she allowed him to make the cake and pie.”

Theon chuckles, “Sounds perfect for cavities.”

“The double dessert?”

“The whole situation.”

“Well, that's the fun, I guess... - he sighs – The not funny part is the questionnaire about personal life.”

“Theon breathes heavily, leans on the wall next to the curtains and smiles, “So, tell me, when are you going to bring home a nice proper girl?”

“Sort of.”

Theon decides to try it.

He is quite sure this boy is like him, so why doesn’t he try to throw the stone? Maybe he will simply say he is not... Theon will pretend to have misunderstood and... he should just ask

“Maybe I should introduce a boy directly, a brutal approach...”

Oh, he saved him the panic.

Then he looks through the curtains and notices Robb has already on the shirt. He is looking on the other side, where he thinks Theon might be, eyes a bit shiny and his face red up to the tip of the ears.

Theon can't stop himself from finding him damn cute.

“My father would kill me if I did. - he blurts out, realizes he stayed silent for a long time – But if your family is so warm and nice, maybe you could try. Just make sure you are wearing a nice suit, so your mom won't kill you.”

Robb snorts, lowers his head and chuckles.

“Yeah, you are right.”

He is smiling hopefully.

Theon sucks his lips, then moves the curtains quickly and moves in with him.

He doesn't know why he did, he is not thinking at all, nothing going through his head... he stares in Robb's blue eyes, his face again flushed, the other’s eyes are nailed on Theon like he is waiting for something he doesn't dare to say or think or realize.

And Theon moves closer, his lips parted.

Then he stops, his eyes going a bit blank, he shakes his head and fixes Robb's suit on his shoulders.

“It may make you look a bit pale, but... looks real nice...”

Robb looks down, biting his lips. He can feel a betrayed feeling in his stomach like a rusty knife in his guts.

He feels suddenly the urge to push Theon against those tiny walls and kiss him, push his tongue into his mouth and take a long taste test.

He can almost feel a feverish shiver run through his nerves.

“I should step out.”, Theon mumbles, exiting.

Robb remains there, staring at the ground.

Theon shakes his head, wondering how the fuck it came to his mind to try to kiss a client and how the fuck did he stop himself to – he was not... usually backing off from sex. He liked playing, he liked being liked.

He...

Oh, fuck it.

“Do you... do you like it?”

“The suit?”

“The suit.”

“Yes. - Robb breathes in – It's a bit large on the waist, we could... fix it and then...?”

“Sure. Sure.”

Theon turns and sees on the other side of the shop Asha making weird signs to ask him to give her some info, then hiding behind a rack of clothes as the woman with the chignon stared at her as if she wanted to burn her into ashes.

Robb exits, smiles shyly and Theon forces himself not to look at him, he just crouches, takes the needle and thread and starts fixing the waist and making a small hem.

“So, hm, do I look like a good private school boy?”

“Good boys wear ties...”

“They make me feel a bit chocked...”

Theon bites his lips forcing himself not to reply, but when Robb sees it he can imagine it regardless and swallows.

Theon rises, “Does it feel comfortable now?”

Robb nods slowly, then tries to speak, his words don't come out and the lip quivers a bit.

“It is... the only suit I’ve ever liked.”

“There is always a first time for everything.”

Robb clacks his tongue against his palate, nervously. An awkward warmth catches his chest.

“You... can't really be honest with a customer, though, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“You... have to be nice and well-mannered, if I... - he is not sure how to ask, he sighs, tries to think of a way – If I asked whether you think it suits me, you couldn't tell me 'no'... it'd be unfair of me to ask, right?”

Theon blinks, tries to smirk, but the corners of his lips are a bit heavy.

“I couldn't be honest in negative, no. - he chuckles – But it does... it does suit you.”

Robb is about to gain courage, but Theon interrupts.

“Do I, do you want to take all of them? Do I wrap them for you?”

“Ah, a …. a bag will be fine, no need of wrapping.”

“At least it will feel like opening a present. - he mumbles, taking them to the cashier, followed by a shy Robb – Is your mother one of our clients?”

“I'm not sure... I think so, but I never came here, so... - he laughs – Kinda wish I did before.”

Theon gives a small smirk, “Really now?”

He wraps the suits and shirts slowly, lingering a bit on the fabric, being as gentle as one can. He tries to not think about how silly he feels.

Flirting on the job, now that's stupid.

When Robb hands him the card, for a moment he doesn't want to pass it.

When Robb grabs the bag, he wants to take it back. But he doesn't.

Asha reaches them, running, under the shrieking look of the blond woman with the chignon, and almost lands on Robb, grabbing Theon's hand.

“Oh, brother, something terrible has occurred!”, she whines, in a overdramatic accent of a bad acting performance.

Theon sighs, “You?”

Asha ignores it, “I know we had plans for when you are finishing your turn right now. - she glances at Robb then again at Theon – But Maron called me and he needs my help.”

Robb blinks, “Maron?”

“Our brother.”

“Oh, I hope it's nothing bad.”

Theon sighs, realizing Robb is pretty bad at noticing when someone is lying, “Most probably, unfortunately, no.”

Asha fakely cleans a tear, “Oh, how I wish I wouldn't leave you alone here, carless, abandoned, now that your turn is over!”

“...Asha, you are overdoing it...”

“Really?”

“Just a bit.”

Robb bursts out, with the weird gleam in his eyes of a Labrador puppy who just figured out a genius solution, “I have a car! - then his voice gets all chocked and hoarse again – I mean, if you... if you want, I can take you home.”

“You are very kind but I would find it a bit...”

“You are such a good guy!”, Asha caught his hands, grinning.

“Oh, no, it's nothing big! Don't worry!”

Theon rolls his eyes, trying to hide a certain joy hidden under his unenthusiastic facade.

Robb meets his glance and a tender smile rises on his pink lips.

Theon blinks slowly, licks his teeth without noticing and bites his bottom lip, shrugging, “Only if you add a cup of coffee to the offer.”

“Deal. - he gives a wide grin – And you'll tell me the names of these colours, so I will be able to actually describe them.”

And then, somehow, it comes to his mind that after eating the pomegranate, Persephone did fall in love.

 

 


	2. Naughty Children List

**#11 - Naughty Children List – NC17**  
Separated during Christmas holidays, Robb and Theon have to find other ways to feel close during this time... less orthodox ways, probably.   
Additional tags: Phone sex, Dirty talking, Ooops

* * *

 

**Naughty Children List**

* * *

 

“I fucking hate Christmas.”

“Theon. - Robb chuckles, fakely patronizing – You shouldn't use bad words.”

“Ooopsy-daisy, thank you for pointing that out.”

Robb laughs hard enough for Theon to feel his heart sink a bit lower.

He sighs, holding onto the phone, rolling on his side and keeping it against his ear, “Why did your family have to kidnap you?”

“One Christmas with my fathers' side and one with my mothers', you know the rules. - Robb closes his eyes, his back almost drowning in the way too soft sofa, as he lets out a deep sigh – I miss you too.”

“I didn't say I miss you.”, Theon points out, almost pouting.

“I know your voice. - Robb mumbles – I can basically see you.”

And Theon tries to imagine him too: the little sweet smile, the tender skin stained in freckles, the hair the colour of sunset on chestnuts. His lips, god, his soft full lips.

For a moment, all he thinks about is his lips, how soft they are, on his mouth, around his cock – how good they feel when he bites into them making Robb moan harder as he slams into him.

“I doubt.”

“Hm?”

Theon's hand moves slowly towards his jeans, tensed and pulled. He can feel his jeans constricting him, a pleasuring uncomfort, tension pulling into his groin.

His breathing gets thicker, louder, soft as butter – Robb can almost feel it melting slowly on him.

He swallows, “Theon, umh, maybe it's my imagination but...”

“Can I call you back?”

“No. - he almost shouts, then swallows and he steps back, sucking his own lips – I mean, I... you don't need to go away?”

Theon chuckles, his hands caressing his own cock throw the thin fabric, “I, not that I mind the idea of people being next to you, you know, but I know you couldn't say anything and...”

Robb looks around, “They went to cut the tree... I stayed home with Robin, but he's napping probably... that kid still milks his mom.”

“I wish you could milk me right now to be totally honest.”

“Christ, Theon, give me the time to arrive to a room.”

A low laugh, chocked by a breathless soundless moan. Then again that breathing thick and dense, that makes Robb feel like all oxygen left the room.

“I'm sorry, I started thinking about how you suck and bite my neck purple while thrusting into my sweet ass...”

“You are not sorry at all.”, Robb deduces, closing himself in an empty bedroom, his voice already half a pant.

“I'm not. - Theon smirks, his smile tensing and shivering as he caresses himself, strokes his cock to hardness and torments its tip – God, I hate your parents.”

“That's weird dirty talk, baby.”

“I need your cock, I hate this. - he can feel his shaft hardening completely, but his ass feels empty – Damn, I want you in.”

Robb bites his bottom lip, aroused.

Theon's voice is scorching, like droplets of melted wax melting on his back.

He was never too good at dirtytalking, they did a couple of times, but he is often afraid to go too far, to step on a nerve or to ruin it all. He was more of the action type even with seduction: he'd kiss and suck and nibble Theon everywhere, very slowly, yet eagerly, driving him insane.

Of course, that is not an option right now.

“I want to fuck you too. - and as Theon's voice gets drenched in need, Robb figures he should probably let lose – I want to break you in two, tear your ass apart.”

Theon bites his lip to stop a high-pitched moan, while his hands go faster and faster.

“I want to slam into your ass and fuck you until you let out that... slutty voice of yours...”

A smirk, “Are you trying to call me names? How uncatechist of you...”

Robb grows harder as Theon teases him. He wants more, he didn't overdo.

“But it's the truth, isn't it? You are so desperate for me right now, I bet you can feel you ass pulsing all needy.”

“Hng, how confident, maybe I'm...”

“After I'll make your neck purple in bites and hickeys, I'll spank your ass red.”

“Ah?”

“Isn't this what you want? - Robb swallows, trying to stay calm and authoritative, his voice dropping lower and hoarser as his cock hardens – To see my marks everywhere? Like a good... branded whore?”

“Christ, Robb, what has gotten into you?”

“I should have done it before I left. Make your neck all bruised, bite you deep, leave the red and blue marks of my hand as slaps on your sweet ass. So if you try to fuck someone they will see.”

Theon laughs slightly in the pillow between pants, finding it impossible to keep any control, “Pull my hair...”

“While I fuck you from behind? Like the reins of a horse? Pulling while I stuff your ass with my cock balls-deep?”

Theon can't anymore.

He turns stomach down and puts the phone behind him, starting to rub his cock, moving up and down as if Robb were fucking him. He can almost imagine it.

“Fuc- more, more, Robb...”

Robb jerks his cock ready, stiff, moves on the whole shaft, imagining Theon riding it, fucking himself on it and coming all around, messy and undone.

“And then I'll bite your ass, rim it nicely...”

“Oh christ yes...”

“Slap it red while my tongue enters your sweet hole... lick and press your thighs... where you like it, cause you're so sensitive there, you moan like a...

“Yes, yes!”

“Yes, like that... - Robb grins, elated, then clenches his jaw, more and more aroused, imagining Theon begging him – But I can't enter just yet...”

Theon frowns, confused, hurt, then intrigued, “Why no?”

“.. before I want you to blow me.”

“Yes, yes, I will. - Theon moans, biting the pillow – I love when you're so...”

“I want to fuck your every hole. I want to bucket into your mouth and see you swallow all my cum.”

Theon almost jolts, sensibility growing as his flesh feels raw and needy.

A smirk, as pleasure rides his back in waves as he moves, “If I drink all your load, you'll give me my reward? I'll deep throat you, taking you all in my mouth, and then will you fuck my ass too?”

“If... If you ask nicely.”

“I'll swallow it all, I'll keep it all in, while you keep my head against your fur.. I'll suck you dry.”

“... that's good, that...”

“I need you to make me come after though... my ass feels so empty and tight...”

“Fuck...”, he lets out, then a loud moan.

Theon smirks, still rubbing, “Glad to see you are a bit out of control too...”

“I need to fuck you. - he almost roars – You must feel so warm and tight, I want you to squeeze it in.”

“And swallow all your cum also from that other mouth?”

“Ah... that's kinda hot...”

“I can be a good whore. - he whispers, moaning louder as rubbing becomes harder, movements erratic, harsh – Ah, god, I'd stuff my ass with anything right now...”

“Are you seriously...”

Theon reaches out, unable to stop jerking his hips, and grabs a lube bottle from the cupboard, “It's smaller than you, but for how thigh I am after these two weeks, it will feel just as about to... - he covers the bottle with cold soft lube and pushing it up inside him - … oh god, yes, yes.”

“Are you...?”

“I'll try to ride you, is it okay?”

“Yes, yes please.”

Theon starts moving up and down, riding the lube, feeling it taking space inside him, deeper at every thrust. He rolls his eyes to the ceiling and closes them, imagining Robb's hands on his hips, while he grunts and pushes in, angry and hungry as the eager beast he is when fucking him.

“It feels so good to finally have you in, damn...”

Robb's cock is painfully hard and he keeps pumping it, touching his own head, remembering how good it feels to sink into Theon, harder and harder while his moans get harsher and needier.

“Drill into me, c'mon.”

“God, I want to tear you apart..., make you so loose and open.”

“Yes, yes.”

Robb smirks, as he can feel and hear Theon's desperation. He feels a weird drunk pleasure in the idea of the other man jerking himself on a pillow and a bottle while talking to him.

To the idea of Theon coming just from the thought of his cock …

Then he remembers,

“And after I'll fuck your mouth again, right? You'll let me slap your face with my cock until you lick it … while I fist your ass.”

“Ah, but, you said...”

“What, you changed your mind? - he pants, now close too – Don't you want my fist to fuck your insides to feel all of your walls tense up against it?”

“God, god, yes, I still do.”

“I could go deeper and deeper, I bet you can swallow almost half of my arm in that ass of yours.”

Theon falls on himself, rubbing again against the sheets, humping what he finds, like a dog in heat.

“I'm so close, please more.”

“I'll break you and fuck you again, making you come each time, raw and needy and filled with my cum.”

“Ah, I still didn't forgive you for that time with the vibe, I...”

“Oh shut up, you loved it. - Robb grunts, so close it feels like electricity running his veins fried – You want me.”

Theon smiles, bites his hand, “Only you, only you.”

“I want to slam into you until I touch your roof. I want to feel you clenching me, trying to contain yourself, while I make your prostate sore.”

Theon growls in pleasure. He can feel Robb's touch, imagine it, and as his hands move he can't stop anymore. He needs relief.

“And then you'll beg me for more.”

A grin, as he pictures Robb biting his lips more and more aroused too, hard and needy just like he was.

The groans Robb is making, so uncomfortably hot like if he was pained by how much he wanted to fuck him; god, Theon loved that little wicked power he had to make that man completely insane for him.

He smirks, malicious, makes his voice as panted and sultry as he can, “You are so big, so hung...”

Robb bites his lips. He can almost imagine Theon, the thought is smouldering, scorching, it burns his hand, it turns his skin to fire.

His Theon, his Theon who had girls and boys before him, a whole chess set.

Who could have them again, leave him if he wanted... somehow, sometimes, it burnt. It burnt him to the bone.

“I'll stretch you so much... if you go with someone else you won't feel anything... you'll need just me to tear you.”

“Just you, I promise, I want you to bang me until you lose all control.”

Robb puts a hand in front of his mouth, groaning an aroused grunt that makes Theon smirk and bite his bottom lip, feeling fuel in his veins.

“You want me, good and warm inside... tight around your hard shaft...”

Robb can feel himself getting closer, his erection now painful, throbbing and pulsing, “Theon...”

“Slam into me, I want you to feel me coming all around you, squeezing you as I arch and burst.”

“Theon, I'm...”

“You fill me so well.- he moans harder, melted, drenched, flooded in pleasure – I want to run my nails into your back, scratching it cause you fill me so much.... and ah, I want to see the way your stomach tenses up when you empty yourself into me, god, god yes.”

Theon's voice chokes and strangles in a dense waterfall of moans and whines, until, squirming, he comes, staining the bed with all of himself. Robb arches, jolts his head back and bursts into his hands, thick and dense.

His breath echoes, rumbles, thunders in his ears.

“F, fuck...”

He can hear Theon laughing with the weirdly drunk voice he gets in the afterglow, “That was nice...”  
“I didn't overdo, right?”, Robb startles.

“I literally came, what do you think? - a chuckle – I liked it, don't worry.”

“I'm sorry, I just never know when I cross the line, I-”

“Robb?”

“Yes?”

“Shut up.”

“Sorry. - a smile – I liked it too.”

“I know, I know your grunts. - Theon chuckles – And I like when my prince becomes a bit of a werewolf.”

“Oh c'mon... - he lets out a big breath – Maybe we should, umh, try this more at home too...”

“Absolutely...”, Theon grins, biting his bottom lip in anticipation.

Robb sighs, “Now, I guess I have to go clean myself though, if you wait a...”.

He falls mute and then starts rumbling something, shrieking and panicking. Theon frowns, confused, until he hears Jon’s half-crying voice saying he didn't need to see this much.

Now, he had a great orgasm and scandalized Jon Snow.

Damn, he loves Christmas.

 

 

 


	3. Five times Christmas dinner was a disaster and one time it wasn't

**#9 – Family Dinner - R**

Robb can be pretty stubborn and since years his plans for Christmas are very clear: he wants Theon to be there as part of his family. And he has zero intentions to let go.  
Additional tags: Past abuse, Not completely flawless families, Family issues **  
**

* * *

 

**Five times Christmas dinner was a disaster and one time it wasn't**

* * *

 

1.

 

“Honey, he can't have lunch with us on Christmas.”

“Why not!”

It was more of a protest, a very firm one for an eight years old, than a question really; but this to Catelyn seems more like the confirm she should be firm rather than considering it.

She turns to him with a sour expression hidden behind a knowing smile, “Theon has his own family to spend Christmas with. It would be unfair from us to kidnap him...”

“But he doesn't like it there! - Robb whines – His brothers are mean and his father is meaner.”

Catelyn seems for a moment to consider saying something before sighing.

“Honey, these are family matters... we can't intrude.”

“But he never had a nice Christmas dinner like we always have. Just this once.”

Catelyn turns to her husband with a look that means: team work needed.

Ned clears his voice, wraps the newspaper and stares into Robb's eyes very intently, “Theon has a mom, right?”

“Yes.”  
“And she is kind, isn't she?”

“She is... - he admits, foreseeing a trick – Why?”

“Now, if she is as kind as your mom, imagine how important is to her the dinner. How would mommy feel if you weren't here for Christmas?”

“...very bad.”

“And we don't want Theon's mom to feel bad now, do we?”

“No of course not. - Robb sighs, feeling defeated – But can't we invite both him and his mom, then?”

“...and who would cook for the others, hm?”

“Mommy always says everyone can cook and also boys should learn.”

Ned gives his wife a look that seems to ask his wife to reconsider how many good lessons could they still give their kids and expect them to still be well-behaved.

“I promise he is going to be fine, during Christmas people should be with their family.”

“...but Theon is my friend.”

“Friends and family are different, Robb, that's a thing you have to learn still, but when you become a grown up you will see.”

“Can't I at least invite him for the afternoon? When we eat cake.”

Cat sighs but Ned this time doesn't seem to see a problem with it, “Sure, for the cake it's fine, I think... he can bring everyone, if he wants, we will make sure to make it bigger.”

He speaks softly, with the stern eyebrows kindly bent as if he wanted to make sure his child knew he was understanding him. After all, his wife couldn't resent him for that much: the Greyjoys were surely not swimming in gold and probably anything extra was a luxury to them, even on Christmas, but she wondered if Balon wouldn't have interpreted that kindness as vanity or pride or charity, the latter was the worst of the options; and it's what happened, of course.

Robb asked them to wait more than an hour and he refused to eat his slice, claiming he'd eat it with Theon, who surely was late but arriving, and he waited four hours, with both slices in the fridge, waiting with him.

The day after, Theon did come. A purple swollen eye and a big livid handprint on the cheek.

He said he fell from the bike in the snow and that's why he couldn't come. They kept him in the hospital to give him stitches that made him look cool.

Robb didn't dare to be angry at him.

Just a bit, at his mom, though, he allowed himself to be.

And at himself for not insisting enough.

 

2.

 

The second time he tries, Robb seems sure it can work.

Theon is seventeen and he'd be alone on Christmas: his brothers died in a car crash, his mother broke down shortly after and went to live with her brother up in Scotland and Theon's sister will go there – she told him to come too, but Theon refused... Robb doesn't dare to ask why or how, but he can't bear the sight of his mom anymore – and Balon likes to spend the holidays with Gin and Jack at the pub. He would have been at home alone.

At the idea of a teen spending Christmas alone, even his mother couldn't have refused it.

Theon chuckles, “There is no need to, I'm not a stray dog for the Stark family to adopt on a cold day.”

“Oh, c'mon, don't be so proud! - Robb pleads, almost desperate – It's just dinner...”

“I don't need it, I'll just eat some chinese.”

Robb grabs Theon's arm and stares at him in the eyes. He can feel the heartbeat thundering and drumming in his ears.

His lips tingle and sting as he speaks, words come out thick like dough.

“ _I_ need you.”

Theon chuckles again, nervously. He looks at Robb's hand and for a moment he seems sad and about to ask something, then he backs away, like he’s scared by a reflection in the void.

“You need me?”

“I want my bestfriend with me...”, Robb says, avoiding to look in his eyes.

“For a dinner?”

“To know you are not alone.”

Theon snorts, “I'm fine alone. - he smiles – You are the one who doesn't like to be.”

Robb hesitates, he looks away. He can feel his cheek flushing and burning up as his tongue. He wants to say the truth, he wants to be honest, but...

“Fine, you are right. - he licks his lips, nervously – But... please, if my mom says yes, will you?”

Theon wants to laugh again, he stares at him.

But Robb looks so pretty, with his huge eyes like a puppy and those tender curls of a shade similar to embers glowing with fire.

And his skin looks so soft, he has to contain himself from touching it.

He breathes in, “Fine. If she allows it.”

Robb shines in joy at the idea. He runs home to ask without hesitation and is sure this time she will say yes.

She may not like Theon, but surely she wouldn't leave him alone like that.

She was a mother, after all. And sweet and understanding.

“But if he wanted not to be alone why didn't he go with his sister?”, she asks, no ill intentions, just that weird, strict, lack of belief in the good in Theon Greyjoy.

Robb smiles, nervously.

He doesn't even notice the corners of his mouth bend upwards, “His mother doesn't feel well...”

“More of a reason for them to meet, no?”

“He is not ready, though...”

She puts her hands on her hips, “If I were sick, wouldn't you come to meet me?”

“Yes, I would, but it's different...”

“Maybe he doesn't want to. - she mumbles, with a wise voice – Maybe he prefers to be alone and what he usually does... going out with girls and...”

“He said he will come if you say yes. - Robb presses, biting his bottom lip slightly – And Theon... he is not like that.”

“He goes out with a lot of girls. - she says and she is not wrong – To be fair, he doesn't seem like proper company, if you ask me.”

Robb lowers his eyes, he moves his fingers nervously and scratches his wrist slightly.

When he calls Theon and stays silent, the other laughs and jokingly mocks him, saying there is no problem and that he needs to stop being so goddamn clingy.

 

3.

 

The third time, Cat has no choice.

Theon and him are together since a bit less than a year and Robb didn't even try to fakely ask, nor had to. Sansa, in fact, was bringing her boyfriend – her awkwardly way too old for her boyfriend, which Ned invited on his own call in order to interrogate him; and Catelyn couldn't have refused to one of them what she allowed the other.

So, Theon Greyjoy was coming for Christmas dinner.

Robb was basically jumping, ecstatic.

Finally, he would have managed to have the people he loved the most all at the same table, without fail.

Or, at least, that was what he hoped to happen.

Theon comes to the house sporting a shirt and pullover, which look awkwardly big and old on him, probably he got them from one of his brothers' closets to look like the good unstylish boy he would otherwise hate to seem. He has a big box of chocolate pralines, which probably cost him way more than he could afford officially. He has his hair tied back.

“You almost look like Jon, honestly...”, Robb snorts.

“Don't you dare... - Theon gives a tight laugh – Do you think they'll like me?”

“They already like you. - he lies – You are lucky this nerdy outfit suits you, I don't know how it's possible...”

“Do I have to put on fake glasses and suspenders?”

“Oh, my hormones may implode, spare me!”, he jokes, caressing his shoulders tenderly.

Theon takes his hand and kisses it gallantly.

“I hope you know how terrified I am and that I'm doing it all for you.”

“How absolutely not guilttripping of you.”

“I know, aren't I a true gentleman?”, he kisses him on the lips in a quick pack.

“For the last time, though... - Robb gives a sad look – No kissing or making out or that stuff, please. My parents are still getting used to the whole gay thing and I don't want them to feel like we are... imposing ourselves during Christmas.”

“So... - he rolls his eyes – It was already hard convincing your mother and you don't want to give her a reason to complain?”

“...perhaps.”

“I'll try. - Theon promises, in a cocky smile – But you owe me one.”

“One what?- he chuckles – Of your favourite... measurement units...?”, he whispers, warmly, eyeing Theon's crotch.

Theon bites his lips, licks them and raises his eyebrows, “Maybe... it would be a nice Christmas treat for you too.”

“Oh, oh. - he gave a sarcastic sigh – What an honour...”

He pinches Theon's arm and signs him to enter, which he does, a bit meekly and dubious. But everything seems to be going fine: Cat is cold but courteous as usual, Ned seems more focused on the wardrobe with half his face scarred who Sansa is... Sansa is dating that thing? Suddenly her old childhood crush on him is a lot less flattering. Jon is grumpying in the background and Bran tries uselessly to make an important point about a scientific discussion everyone has forgotten they were talking about, while Arya and Rickon play draw obscenities with your food.

Theon relaxes his shoulders and enjoys the soft warmth of the candles, the sweet scent of cinnamon, the tender christmas lights glowing like fireflies. He can hear the Christmas songs playing in the background and a fuzzy feeling of a heart-warming banality makes him raise a smile.

Robb gives him a tender look, smiles.

He is happy.

And Theon realizes what he feels right then, he is happy too. Happy on Christmas. Sounds fake.

Robb returns to munch on his food, sometimes speaking to Cat, who softens slowly her look.

Theon hears a cough from next to him.

“Umh, - Robb croaks with a hoarse voice – Daddy, can you pass me some water?”

Theon's and Ned's hand both reach the bottle at the same time.

Arya's cheeks puff in a laugh to suffocate, Sansa blinks, Cat lowers her look, staring at the tablecloth and probably meditating a homicide.

 

4.

 

“Please, try to give this idea a chance. - Robb holds Theon's hands – Do it for me.”

“Last Christmas was awful, Robb.”, Theon sighs.

“Yes, but this time I spoke with Asha and she said she'll be here, we just have to convince your dad and we can have a nice...”

“...Robb, Christmas with my family is never nice.”

“Maybe we should give it a try?”

A glare, “And your mother will never forgive me if I take you away and...”

“Look, I want to spend the holidays with you. Also, if we miss this year, maybe, next one, they will behave better.”

Theon squints, “Robb Stark, you sly little red fox.”

Robb grabs him by the waist, “So you will accept me inviting your family at the restaurant for Christmas?”

Theon sighs, rolling his eyes, “Fine, fine. Just nothing too fancy.”

“You like fancy.”

“My father doesn't and I don't think I can bear him cursing in public loudly...”

Robb nods, remembering at an instant how hard trying to please Balon Greyjoy was gonna be on him, but nothing was more unmoveable than a Stark with a decision made clear in their head; stubbornness was a family trait and he was very firm in his need and will to have nice, picture perfect holidays with Theon Greyjoy. And he was ready to spend Christmas with Balon if that was necessary.

And that was going to be quite bad.

Asha, to her defence, was making a huge effort to not cross the line of friendly teasing with her brother, trying to put him at his ease. But Theon looks like a violin chord all over.

He stares nervously around, Robb caressing his leg to calm him.

It was soothing, but not of much help.

Balon didn't come, which was probably for the best. And yet.

Theon swallows his glass of wine, Asha cracks a joke and gives one of her loud laughs to avoid silence sticking onto their bones. Her brother looks so small...

Sansa texts Robb, asking if he is sure he doesn't want to join them, because their mother looks so miserable.

Theon plays nervously with the napkins and gives a low laugh.

His voice is sour and sharp.

“I don't know what you expected.”, he half-roars.

And Robb is not sure whether he is speaking with him, angry for disappointing him, feeling guilty over his father's absence.

Or if he is speaking to himself.

He kisses his cheek as to apologize and comfort together.

Asha stares at them in a sad look, “Hey, you know what we should do later?”

“Hm?”

“When this little sprout was very small, like until... - she can't say, she gives a chocked sound – A bit before you two met, there, we used to go to the ice skating ring on Christmas.”

“I'm not sure I feel like it. - Theon admits, reluctant – I don't even remember how to do it.”

“Neither do I! - Robb laughs – Let's try, if we are a disaster, at least you can laugh at me falling.”

Theon nods and when Asha raises her glass, he makes an effort to clack his against hers.

 

5.

 

“So, Theon, umh, how is business working out?”, Ned asks, awkwardly, passing the salad.

“Ah, pretty fine, actually. - he gives a confident look – I mean, it's more scratches and nails than I would have predicted, but it's a slice.”

Cat frowns, “What is it you do exactly, then again?”

Robb lights up, enthusiastic, “He got promoted: head designer. - he takes a full sip of wine and gives a wide smile – Now he can boss people around.”

“The pleasures of life...”, Theon jokes.

Cat gives a courteous smile and nods, “Being a designer must be difficult.”

“Theon always had taste for clothes.”

“Robb, we don't need to mutate this dinner into compliments supper, you know?”

“I'm just showing you off...”, he mumbles, looking at him enchanted, as if he were the prettiest thing on earth.

Sansa smiles entendered, while Arya makes an overly nauseated grimace at how sugar-coated those two are being. Theon can't see well the expressions of the other family members but he can hear Jon scoffing, “When will you two marry and go live away saving us from these cavities?”.

Robb turns pale, gives a fake smile.

Theon can feel a coldness clenching his heart tight.

He swallows, makes the hoarsest, most cracked laugh he can find and his sharp grin looks almost like a wound.

Jon frowns, lowers his face, doesn't comment. When Rickon seems about to ask that's wrong, Bran distracts him with extra potatoes.

Cat blinks then stands up, “Honey, help me with the dishes, so we can bring the next course.”

Robb obeys and, grabbing some dishes, follows her. Everyone interprets it as a way to cut tension, except Robb – he knows what's coming.

His mother puts the dishes in the sink and turns to him with a raised eyebrow and a worried look, “What's happening?”

Robb shakes his head, “Nothing, mom, you are over worrying.”

“You looked like someone punched you in the stomach, I know there is something...”, she explains, caressing his arm.

“I'm... - Robb sighs – I proposed. He rejected me.”

Cat knows she shouldn't be relieved.

But she is.

But her son's eyes are filled with a thick, dense, blue sadness she can't forgive herself for not finding herself desperate over.

She needs to protect him, after all. Theon is a playboy and from an alcoholics family.

Her boy can... do so much better...

“Baby... - she caresses his auburn curls and looks at him kindly, remembering how sweet he is and always was – He is not the type to be into a serious relationship, you know, he is not like you.”

He used to be so short. Now he is so tall.

Robb moves away quickly, shaking her hand off.

He looks at her. He is not angry, just pained.

He wished she could understand.

“He said I didn't know what I was putting myself into. - Robb gives a small laugh – He doesn't think he is good enough.”

Catelyn seems confused.

Robb shakes his head, “And I think he knows you agree... but I don't, I never did.”

“Honey, I just want you to be happy.”

“...did you ever consider I could already be?”, he gives a small laugh before leaving the kitchen with a big bowl of fruit in his hands.

 

6.

 

“Robb. - Theon whines, rolling in bed, kissing his shoulder – You are stealing the blankets. Again.”

Robb gives out an ecstatic moan, turning and kissing Theon's hair.

“Maybe I do so you come to hug me.”

“What a dork.”

“Merry Christmas.”, he mumbles, rubbing his nose against the soft head of hair. Robb's curls smells like cinnamon from all the baking cookies he did the days before – they didn't all come out nicely, but it was some good try.

Theon opens and closes his eyelids slowly, “Are you sure about today?”

Robb snuggles and holds him tight, “You mean my plan to spend the holidays with my most important person in the universe?”

“They will miss you... - he frowns – You never told me why you got so... distant all of a sudden last year.”

“Nothing. - a quick kiss – It was just too many people in one room, I wanted to do something intimate: me, you, sex.”

“Isn't sex on Christmas kind of blasphemous?”

“Only slightly.”

Theon raises an eyebrow, unimpressed, and gets a wide smile on his face.

His fingerprints are soft and loving on Robb's chest.

“I know it's important for you...”

“Christmas?”

Theon sighs, shaking his head, trying to hide the sweet amusement, “Family.”

“You are my family. - Robb sighs – The dearest part.”

“It's not the same, though...”

Theon's touch lingers on Robb's freckles, sprayed like dust on his fair skin.

“I love them, I do. But this is a bit of... - he squints – I'm not sure how to explain, it's a bit of a personal thing.”

“Like?”

“Wanting you for Christmas... let's say it's important for me that they just accept it.”

Theon groans, “So Robb Stark is exploiting me for his own pride?”

Robb sticks his tongue out, “Sorta.”

“I don't believe it. - he frowns – There is something you are not telling me.”

Robb is not sure how Theon can't find his parents not liking his partner a reason sufficient for him to not spend one day of the year trying to convince them but being firm in his position.

He is not sure how he thinks he is not worth a day of stubbornness.

“I miss them, but this year I'm not giving up.”

He takes Theon's hand in his own and kisses it, with a gleam of dedicated adoration in his eyes.

The tiny silver ring shines a bit. Theon stares at it and then at Robb.

“Especially this year. - Robb grins, victorious – They will have to adapt.”

Theon raises his eyes, giving a mocking smile, “Dork.”

When the phone rings, at first, he doesn't want to reply, he groans and Theon has to almost kick him out of the bed onto his mobile. His eyes widen as he sees his mother's number, he clicks quickly the green button then waits before speaking, hesitating until she does.

“How are you two, honey?”

“Yes... I'm fine, mom...”

A moment of doubt, like a tremble, “You two both?”

Robb blinks a couple of times, incredulous, staring in front of himself, “Yes, Theon too.”

There is a small pause and Robb can hear his mother breathing with a certain shame, as if she wanted to say something but struggled to find the words. Then, a sigh.

“Honey, at which time will you and Theon come? - she asks, sweetly – We... I would be happy to see you two.”

Robb smiles and turns to Theon, whose lips curl up too.

“Can we go?”, he asks, eyes bright.

Theon mouths a “yes” slowly and then receives a big soft kiss, Robb pulling his bottom lip and drinking the frenzy out of his eager look.

When they part, Robb gives a quick pack right after and whispers, almost scared to say it out loud and for it to break in the air, “Told you... - the smile turns almost in a brief happy laugh – They would have accepted it.” .

 


	4. The bad pancake, blue eyeliner and roses from Mars

**#15 – A partridge in a pear tree – NC17**

* * *

  
My wife is really into make-up and some time ago she asked me for a MUA!Theon AU, so here it is. Robb is a young gay man who never actually had sex with men and meets the very experienced MUA Theon which he starts a purely sexual relationship with. Of course, it's a fanfiction, so the situation does not remain solely sexual for long ... Apparently partridges were symbolic symbols for shrewdness and also lewd relationships, while a pear tree was both a symbol of pure love but also of masking and hiding, so I thought it was fitting!  
 **Additional tags: Sex, "without strings attached my ass", Mutual pinning and mutual idioticy, Past Thramsay, Ramsay existing, Jealousy, Past abuse**  
In this fic, Theon is not inspired to any IRL/YT personality and I put this out because I'd rather avoid people misinterpreting this fic as support or liking of specific VIPs. It's just a job like others nowadays and my wife happened to enjoy this scenario. 

* * *

 

**#** **15 – A partridge in a pear tree – NC17**

**The bad pancake, blue eyeliner and roses from Mars**

 

* * *

 

 

“It's out of discussion. - Robb snorts – It's a waste!”

“I'm not sure you are familiar with the expression 'must have'...”, Sansa snarks at him, crossing her arms.

“It's... it's a waste, it's crazy expensive.”

Sansa stares at him, her lips quivering, her eyelashes batting at the speed of light.

“Don't make Bambi eyes at me! - Robb warns her – I'm not letting you buy this … this... what is this even.”

“The Golden Kraken collection.”

“This golden cracker thing. - he crosses his arms too, signalling his firmness – You don't need it.”

“But it's my birthday soon? - she stares at him, sucking her lips slightly – Please...”

“I swear to...”

“May I help you?”

Now, Robb Stark considered himself the type of person who is nice to workers: always leaving the tip, always thanking, never starting discussions, never asking anything beyond the strictly necessary; but in the moment the young woman appears, he gives her a deadly glare as to intimidate her to go as far away as humanly possible.

“We are fine, thank you.”

The worker doesn't even blink at him and proceeds to speak to Sansa, “Oh! Would you like me to show you the tester?”

“Oh, please! - Sansa smiles – It would be so nice.”

The woman opens a box from the shelf with a big label TESTER over it and extracts the content in front of them, “As you see, it's quite the deal: together with the palette, you get the two lipsticks and this double head mascara-eyeliner, waterproof. I tell you, we’ve sold more of these than the Christmas collection value set.”

“Halloween has barely passed and you are selling Christmas stuff?”

The worker turns to Robb and gives him the smile one would give to a retarded child, “Oh, your boyfriend doesn't do this often, does he?”

“He is my brother. - Sansa laughs then turns to him glaring – You'd think being gay, he'd have some kind of respect for feminine hobbies.”

Robb rolls his eyes to the ceiling.

“With all respect... the price of this seems quite... high?”

“Oh, for an external eye, maybe. - she stares at him in vague nervous horror – But we are speaking high end quality here, not to add that this collaboration is Limited Edition and...”

“I understand all the words separately but I can't match them to 70 dollars of make-up, sorry.”

Sansa sighs loudly, “You promised I could get what I wanted for my birthday.”

“Oh! Happy birthday! Remember to say it at the cashier; you'll get a little skincare present.”

“Oh, that's so cute!”

“Sansa... - Robb mumbles – My problem is not the money, I just... I thought you would have spent them on something more... important than make-up. Or at least for many things and not.. one so expensive.”

“Robb, I know you don't understand, but when Margaery and Joff got together and there was that mess at school, Theon is what helped me to keep my mental sanity.”

“Theon?”

“Theon Greyjoy. - the helper says, with a smile now so sharp Robb fears for his carotid – The MUA who did this collaboration.”

“MUA?”

“I leave you a moment.”

“...why do I feel like I’ve just asked if the earth is round?”

Sansa smiles, then takes out her mobile and opens quickly a picture, “Theon Greyjoy, he is a make-up artist. Remember the ad we saw in the underground? Girl with blue lips? It's his own. He works with a lot of brands right now...”

Robb bends a bit, between the photos of girls with heavy make-up of improbable colours, there is a man. A handsome man.

Dark long hair, heavy make-up, elegant suit. Smirk. Fuck, smirks were his weakness.

“...so, this... charming young man does... make-up?”

“Charming young man? You sound like a granpa. - she groans – And yes, men can be make-up artists, welcome to the new century, Robb.”

“And this... person you don't know helped you to feel less down?”

“You know how when you are very sad, you put on Eric Clapton and everything gets better?”

Robb sighs.

He has to admit it makes sense.

“And he... made that thing you like.”

She nods, “The Gold Kraken is a metaphor for his tragic family troubles-”

“...of course, he has a tragic backstory.”

“He made a video about it.”

“Why would someone unlock something so personal online?”

“...you and granpa spend too much time together. - she states, staring at him – Anyway, he also has a kraken tattoo and gold and black are his favourite colours and did you see these colours? They are amazing.”

“But would you even use them? They seem so... out of your comfort zone.”

“Theon always says comfort zones are the cages we build for ourselves.”

Robb is already considering strangling this virtual dude.

“...you don't have a crush on him, right?”

She snorts, “I don't think I'd be his type.”

“What do you mean?”

Sansa smiles, “So, can I have it?”

Robb groans, then nods, “If you promise to use it, yes.”

“Yes! Thank you!! You are the best brother in the whole universe!”, she claims, hugging him tight.

“...at least I gained back the title.”, he smiles, remembering how Jon stole it from him the year before by getting Sansa her puppy Lady.

 

*

 

Grey Wind yawns heavily, rolling on the dried grass. Robb smiles, lowers a hand and rubs his big fluffy belly.

“Who is a good boy, hm? Who is a good boy?”

Grey Wind wanks his tail and licks the hand, happily.

“Sansa was really ecstatic over whatever you got her.”, Jon laughs, raising his head from the book he brought.

“Yeah, if you ask me, it was a huge waste. It's make-up, how can it cost that much?”

Jon shrugs, “Don't ask me, Ygritte barely uses hand cream in winter. But Satin uses I think half of his pay check on that stuff, it's crazy.”

“Also... a boy? I mean, okay, Satin is... peculiar.”

“You are gay too, Robb.”

“It's just... - he sighs again – I don't want Sansa to feel ugly.”

“Pretty sure makeup is supposed to spare her that sensation.”

“But shouldn't she feel happy with her own... whatever?”

“Robb, it's the same reason why you go to the gym four days a week, to feel okay with yourself. Let her be, she is sixteen. If you ask me, she could have worse hobbies.”

Robb seems to agree and leans with his head on the bench.

“It's warm for being November...”

“Quite.”

Grey Wind licks Robb’s hand, rubs his head on it and nibbles.

“...do you also think I spend too much time with the family?”

“You spend more time with mom and me than with anyone else. - Jon shrugs – I mean, you are the family type, makes sense, but...”

“But?”

“You should find yourself a boyfriend. It's since you came out that... mweh, desert.”

“I know... - he sighs – It's just... you know, with Jeyne it was serious. And then I realized I was gay, but... I never met a person I liked in particular.”

“I know, but maybe you should, I don't know, go to gay clubs? Or something. Satin uses an app.”

“I don't want to find someone on an app! It seems... fake.”

“...you are old inside.”

“Thanks. - Robb groans – If I went to a club, would you come with me?”

Jon sighs, “Do I have to?”

“Please...”

“I do it just cause if you remain a bachelor longer, Catelyn will start to teach you how to knit.”

“Thank you. - he smiles – Maybe... should we say this to Ygritte?”

“Not sure she'd make little happy jumps about it, no. - Jon snarks – Wait, I’ll call Satin so he can recommend a good place.”

Robb stares nervously at the lake in front of them, the ducks leave the cold waters quickly, slapping their wings in the wind. Grey Wind barks loudly at them.

Suddenly, it feels like November.

 

*

 

Robb turns towards Jon with a nervous smile, “Maybe we can return home.”

“Nope.”

“I heard the new The Walking Dead episode was amazing.”

“Robb. Order. A. Drink.”

Robb sighs, looking around: it's full of people, mostly gay men, some lesbians, a couple of drag queens. It looks vaguely as he had always imagined just louder, with less light but more glitter. The colored neons of pink and blue half-blind him and then disappear leaving them again in a vague, supposedly charming actually uncomfortable, darkness.

He turns to the bartender.

“Hm, a beer?”

Jon pops up, “I want a Mai Tai.”

“And a Mai Tai.”

“Hey, cutie. - the bartender smiles to Jon – When my turn ends, I may search for you.”

“Flattering. - Jon thinks, finally discovering a place where someone finds him attractive – But I'm taken. I'm here for my brother.”

“Frotch?”, the man snorts.

“...should I take the snort as a compliment?”

“No offence, darling, you are the straightest looking gay man I’ve ever seen. - he makes a sad face – You look like a hipster lumberjack but without the sexual experimentation phase.”

“Thanks... - he turns to Jon – I don't look gay, Jeyne was right. I'm the unsuspectable gay.”

“No offence, but I knew since you were eight. Jeyne was blind.”

“Who is Jeyne?”

“His ex. He dumped her when he realized he liked dick and then he proceeded to never have dick again.”

“Are you a gay virgin? Are you serious? It's like the opposite of a golden star.”

“...do I get a special prize, like, I don't know, a free beer?”

“That's not the attitude for it. - he mumbles – But I get it, took me... wait a moment, you are Robb Stark.”

“...do we know each other?”

“Our sisters go to school together. Loras Tyrell.”

Robb goes pale, “Oh Christ, please, don't tell Margaery, she'll tell Sansa and...”

“Who did you take me for: the gay FBI?”, he laughs.

“Sorry, just quite nervous.”

“I see it, hey, why don't you and Unfortunately-Taken go to the Dark Room? That should be fun.”

“The what...?”

“It's a dark room.”, he comments, waving his eyebrows suggestively.

Robb feels again treated like an idiot and decides to not ask any longer.

“I don't know, I mean, it looks like there are just people who want to fuck around here...”

“Dude, that's what you need. Especially if it's your first, otherwise... bad pancake.”

“What?”

Jon nods, solemnly, “The first pancake always comes out bad.”

“...so I should fuck someone random because anyway it will end up badly? Is this your suggestion? - Robb groans – Am I mistaken or was Ygritte your first?”

“Wait, you are straight?”, Loras seems heartbroken.

Jon groans, “I know. Tragic, hm? - turns to Robb – Just drink your beer and try to relax.”

“It's easy for you... he laughed at me.”

Loras shrugs, “There's hope for everyone. - a flash – Oh! Wait! - he places a rose of glitter magenta plastic on his shirt – No, isn't it better?”

“I feel like a joke made by a republican.”

“That's the spirit.”

Robb chugs down his drink and tries to move towards the dance floor, while Jon and Loras stare at him with absolutely doubtful encouraging looks, making little thumbs up. God, he must really look scared.

The loud high-pitched pop music is also not helping. He is not even sure if the song is sung by a woman or man, it's just a piercing shrill. He tries to dance but fails miserably and looks around.

He is a deer in the magenta spotlight. Hopeless, terrified, alone.

He was not made for this stuff.

Maybe Satin was right about using an app.

He just always thought he would have met the right person at the park, at the book shop, the music shop... at Starbucks, like in those slash fanfictions he read when young... yeah, then again, how did he think he was straight?

But turns out when you are not straight meeting people casually is a bit harder.

He even flirted a couple of times, thinking someone was gay and discovering that way that... some people are just oddly fashionable.

He groans, trying to move to the external side of the dance floor to evacuate it, when he hears a strong whine.

“Ouch ouch ouch!”

He freezes, noticing the damn fake rose trapped someone's hair.

“Ah, I'm sorry, I'm...”

The boy slams him silent with a look, and then works on freeing his luscious locks.

Robb is speechless.

That boy is... beautiful. Simply.

The long dark hair in a ponytail, the beautiful symmetric face, dark eyes, the big shoulders but the lean, skinny body. He blinks again, a couple of times.

He has glitter on his skin, just slightly, reflecting the disco lights.

When he frees himself, he gives a proud grin, “Ah! Did it!”.

Robb must be smiling like an idiot because when the boy glances at him, he seems amused.

“Ah, I'm... very sorry. My friend put it on and...”

“Loras? - he snorts – Oh God, he still does that with the desperate cases? - he looks at Robb tip to toes, a couple of times, first quickly, then slowly, lingering, and bites his bottom lip, smirking, hungry – But you don't look like you need it.”

“I've been told I look quite straight.”

“Not to me. - he grins – Just a terrible dancer.”

“I see...”, he laughs.

The boy has beautiful dark eyes the colour of onyx and a beautiful smirk. Robb is sure he saw him somewhere but can't pin point where.

“I'm Robb, emh, may I offer you a drink to...”

“….apologize for attacking my hair?”, he suggests.

“Thank you, yes, yes, please.”

He smiles, almost shy and yet hungry, eager.

And Robb can't avoid smiling the same way.

“On one condition. - the boy smiles – Not here, there are too many people. - his fingers caress slowly his chest – Take me away.”

And Robb, almost without noticing, slides a hand by his hips and takes him out of the place, staring at him, enchanted.

“Uh-oh...”, Loras mumbles.

“Hm? What's bad? He finally got someone.”

“That's really bad pancake material... - Loras makes a weird grimace – Theon Greyjoy. He never made a good pancake in all his life.”

Jon looks worried, but doesn't dare to comment.

How bad could it be, after all?

 

*

 

He takes him to a bar nearby, they drink too many gay Russians and gin tonics; and Robb laughs way too much.

But he doesn't seem to mind.

The boy doesn't tell him his name yet, but pulls him by the shirt collar and makes him dance on the pavements while walking the city; and Robb is an awful dancer.

But he doesn't seem to mind.

They end up eating fries, drunk to the point their hearts feel a bit rotten and a bit made of moonlight, and the boy's lips are full of salt; and Robb pulls him close and kisses him clumsily.

But he doesn't seem to mind.

He brings him closer and deepens the kiss, running his hands over his curls. They kiss against the walls of buildings, in the tiny lift, against the door the boy tries to open.

They kiss voraciously, ferociously, relentlessly.

Robb hesitates for just an instant, before the boy invites him in, then pushes him on the bed and kisses him until the sunlight breaks the glass of the windows.

He tastes like salt, he tastes like milk, he tastes like all the good wrongs.

When he wakes up, Robb's head is hurting badly, like someone were jackhammering it; his whole body hurts and feels great at the same time. He frowns, looks around, then next to him, on a giant bed that is not his own.

Silk black sheets.

Stained.

He sits up, panicking.

“Hey, sweetie.”

He turns and sees him: handsome as the devil himself, just with a pair of black boxers on, so tight he can see the outline of... “Oh, god, did we fuck?”

The boy laughs, shaking his head, “You were really wasted, hm?”

“I'm... - he looks mortified – I'm sorry, I must sound like a jerk.”

“Sweetie, it was a one night stand. - he winks – Calm down. You were pretty cute, though.”

“Oh fuck! - he slaps himself in the face – No, c'mon, I mean... I can't have... forgotten it all... can I ask details?”

He snorts, “If you remember it being good, it's usually enough.”

“No, I... was I even good?”

“Quite great. A little rough, but I like it that way. - he smirks – You really had to drink a bunch to relax, but it was worth it.”

“...did I...? - he sighs – God, finally I- and I don't remember, dammit.”

The boy sits with him on the bed, “Should I make you some coffee? I usually don't host for breakfast, but I have the sensation you'd like it.”

Robb turns and stares at him like a puppy.

“I... screwed up. I liked you, I didn't mean to... do it all at once.”

The boy blinks and stands up, “I'll need some coffee too, if you're gonna speak about liking after one night you can't even remember.”

“I- I felt light.”

“The magic of gin.”, he laughs from the kitchen, coming back with two mugs filled with black coffee.

“No, I- look... god, I sound so clingy, but you are... so charming. I should have waited, maybe taken you on dates.”

“Ah-a, I don't do dates.”

“What? Why?”

He gives a small smile, “Well, I could have some casual fucks with you, you are quiet the energetic type. - he smirks – But, I'm not fond of the romance thing, sorry.”

Robb sighs, sipping his coffee.

“Finally I get over myself and... bad pancake.”

A laugh, he puts his cup on the drawer, “Bad breakup before me?”

“Sorta. - he doesn't dare say the truth – Let's say it’s been a long time since I’ve oiled up the machine.”

“The machine worked divinely. - he kisses Robb's cheek, then whispers – But when you are so hung, you shouldn't make it work that strong.”

Robb stiffs, “Ah, I didn't mean to hurt your...”

“...you are cuter when shy.”, he observes.

“I, hm, don't remember your name.”

“I didn't tell you.”

“Why?”

“Well, should I give it to everyone I have a one night stand with?”, he laughs.

Robb groans, “I'm guessing it's a high number...”

“Quite. I'm not good with relationships, don't know how to do them.”

Robb laughs, “Tell me about it.”

“Theon.”

“Hm?”

“My name. - he sits on Robb's lap, kissing his ear – How about we do this again?”

“...maybe sober?”

“Why not?”

Robb looks down, trying to avoid the strong glances, but the boy raises his chin with a finger and invades his mouth with his tongue, pushing into it and making him moan. He felt good, warm.

Then a bite on his bottom lip.

Robb chokes a moan in his mouth, staring at him.

“Ah, you are...quite the tease.”

Theon smirks, “I have to go get prepared for work now, though.”

Robb frowns, “Wait, you are...”

“Twentyfour.”

“You... - he almost chokes – You are older than me?”

Theon laughs, “Apparently. Hopefully you are legal, considering how funny you find this.”

“Yes, it's just... I thought you were my age.”

“Which would be?”

“Twenty.”

“Great, no prison for me. - he smirks again – And you look older, sweetie.”

“So, umh, what do you do?”

“I paint people.”

“Uh?”

He sighs, a bit embarrassed, “I am a make-up artist.”

Robb squints his eyes, as if trying to add up some clues. Then he becomes pale.

Theon. Theon Greyjoy.

“The Kraken boy!”

“That's why I go to fuck without stuff on my face. - he scoffs, then he grins awkwardly – Can we still have casual sex or am I to expect this thing to blow up over twitter?”

“I... didn't know you were gay.”

He frowns, “Wait, you... have you ever seen any of my videos?”

“No. - he shrugs – My little sister loves you, she got me to buy that fucking box you made, man, that was expensive.”

“Quality costs. Your sister has good taste.”

Robb frowns, “... so you don't want to be recognized?”

“Why would I? - he gives a weird smile – So people can go around saying they fucked me or ask me money? You wouldn't believe the amount of people who wanted me to use them as models. I want to have fun, not to babysit attention starved millennials.”

“You are also a... doesn't matter.”

Theon smirks, “Why did you need the details?”

Robb breathes out, “First time with a man.”, he admits, embarrassed.

Theon tilts his head, “Well, aren't you a natural... - he stares in his eyes – So, let's make a deal: we fuck, I teach you all there is to know, and you keep this whole I fucked a youtube celebrity for yourself.”

“I would have sex with you even without any deal, probably...”

Theon blinks, “You are terrible at holding the power, kiddo.”

A grin, he kisses him, taking easily control of his mouth, making Robb groan in pleasure.

Robb closes his eyes, lost in bliss.

Theon keeps them open, then slowly moves away.

“Do you have anything to do tonight?”

“Uh, no...”

“I finish work at 9 pm, I have a stupid catwalk thing. Wait for me downstairs, with some tuna sashimi.”

“What happened to flowers and chocolate?”

He laughs, then furrows his eyebrows, “How much of a fan is your sister?”

“...72 dollars and 80 cents.”

Theon grins, shakes his head and then throws Robb a small box.

“Lipsticks I made. They cost thirty dollars each.”

Robbs stares at the box of lipsticks like it cost more than his guts, in total it probably did, “What? Why? How?”

“They always send me a lot to use. Take it as a thank you for having such a great cock. I haven’t had a good fuck in a good five months.”

“...but she'll ask me how I got them.”

He shrugs, “Tell a lie. - he winks – I go shower, sweetie.”

Well, his bad pancake turned out to be a quite amazing good stack of sex pancakes covered in cream and... presents?

 

*

 

Robb fears his eardrums will shatter.

Sansa is basically shrieking, holding his arm and panting, “Oh, my god, Robb, you are insane!”

“...I, I told you, I didn't pay the full price... I mean, it was on discount.”

“As if! This collection is fucking rare, Robb! How did you get your hands on it? - she makes little jumps – Oh, God, I told you I liked this man and you got me a 200 dollars value set of his stuff. Oh my god, you are setting serious standards no boyfriend could match to...”

“It's just some make-up, Sansa.”

“No no, no, this is Roses from MARS. Each lipstick is a unique colour and they are all named from his favourite movies.”

“I see?”

“And they are so comfortable and long-lasting and-”

“Sansa, I beg of you, I don't give a fuck about make-up, I'm just glad you are happy, but don't explain to me why this is great, deal?”

“Deal. - she rolls her eyes, contemplating her lipsticks in adoration – Aaah, I can't believe you found this.”

“Hm, now thinking about it, can I ask something?”

“Sure?”

“Can I … just know the names? Out of curiosity.”

“Mere curiosity, I bet.”, Jon comments from behind.

“Yes, I mean... he seems like an … interesting person.”

Sansa's eyes shine, “Wait, I'll make you see his channel, and we can check his snapchat together.”

“You have him on snapchat? Isn't that just for friends?”

“How old are you inside?”

Jon shakes his head, smelling disaster.

Turns out Sansa has Theon Greyjoy added on every damn social network on the planet and Robb can see him, now, he is wearing a nice shirt, v-cut, that shows the hickeys of the night before – hickeys he made, oh god – and he is wearing a shining blue eyeliner and lips. He looks... well, of course now he can recognize him, as Theon Greyjoy.

But he can't stop thinking about how prettier he looked to him, with his face clear, lips covered in salt and eyes shining under lamplights.

Sansa shows him some videos and Robb realizes something.

It is work.

And damn hard work.

Putting stuff on models, making people into concepts, symbols, images, turning a physiognomy, working on colours... he does paint on people.

Sansa turns to him, finding him in awe.

“Hey, wouldn't you be the one getting a crush on him?”

A weak laugh, “What an idea. As if.”

“He should meet him before.”, Jon comments, dryly, staring at Robb with vague undefined annoyance.

Turns out, Theon Greyjoy loves old movies.

Most of the actors in there are pretty much dead or about to die, the lines are classic, the atmosphere mesmerizing and smoking. Somehow, Robb is not surprised.

He decides he should watch them.

Just out of curiosity.

And culture.

And... stuff.

Not for his not-boyfriend who stated he doesn't do dates nor relationships. Nope.

Not at all.

 

*

 

When Theon arrives, Robb waves at him and Theon think if he had adopted a dog that's probably how it would feel like.

He has bright eyes and a big bag that probably contains more food that what he'd eat in a week, but he can't complain. When he comes close to snark off a sassy remark, Robb grabs him by the waist, pulls him close and pushes his tongue in his mouth so possessively and sweetly, so ardently and sappily that he is unsure if enjoying how cliché it felt or separate suddenly and give the kid a cold shower; but, after all, he clarified it was just sex and probably that boy also can't distinguish love from lust yet.

He lets him be, closes his eyes and enjoys the smouldering tongue and the burning hands.

They enter in the lift laughing and half-drunk in a feverish frenzy. Theon grabs Robb's collar and opens his shirt and Robb suddenly wishes he had put on a tie to be pulled with.

There is a weird, tormenting and arousing pleasure in feeling Theon pulling his bottom lip with his teeth.

The gentle pain, the subtle urge to bite him back, to sink into him, flesh and bones, melting in heat...

His hand hesitates in what his mind pushes for; he caresses Theon's neck, just a brush of his fingertips on his shirt.

“Can I...?”

“What do you think I pulled you on the bed for?”, Theon chuckles.

He sort of has to realize that, that it's true, that it's happening – he guesses, he imagined so many different scenarios that it's hard now to stay quiet and live it without doubting it.

Robb gives him this nervous smile.

“I- just...”

Theon raises an eyebrow, “Nervous?”

“I really don't remember last night, I'm not sure what... to do...”

Theon puts a hand on his cheek and it doesn't even seem him because he is so tender.

He raises his head and gives a slow, innocent kiss, like a pack, on Robb's lips.

He can hear the little clack they make and he pushes more and drowns in Theon's mouth, keeping him close, rubbing their crotches together, while Theon's eyes turn into smouldering waters.

He can feel his erection hard against Theon's thigh, he can feel his hands searching for him, scratching his back, clutching him close.

“Relax... - he whispers in his ear – Let your fingers run on me.”

Robb's fingertips tremble, but they are warm against Theon's skin, and soft.

They run gently down the hills, they rest in the curve of his back, in the angle of his hips – they paint him in shivers, they let him glow in moans.

Theon's mouth agape, his lips getting dry and wet his voice.

Robb's hands open his trousers and work their way to Theon's hard cock, freeing him and jerking him, unkindly and relentlessly as Theon would beg for.

He can't help but stare, enchanted and feverish – as if panic turned to hunger to consume.

He stares at Theon's back arched, his hips shaken by shivers, the way his lips mouth mutely his name.

He feels himself hard and pulsing, needy for him.

A feral twist clenches his guts and he knows there is nothing he can do to deny himself the truth.

He hides in Theon's neck, breathes the musk and the sweat, takes in all the ocean of warmth. He rubs against it, his lips rubbing the soft skin, the hair.

His hands move quicker and quicker around him and Theon twists, squirms.

Robb can feel his hips backing and arching like waves of an ocean brought by the storm. The way Theon closes his eyes and looks away almost hurts him, but he can't say.

He supposes maybe it's a good sign.

He swallows, aroused, all his nerves tense as if they were going to burst.

Theon furrows his eyebrows, bucketing his hips against Robb's hand. His voice gets lower, dryer – it scratches the air, hoarse, his fingers grab Robb's shoulder.

He opens his eyes, just for a faint moment- they shine, and they are molten scorching darkness and pure smouldering desire.

He is not sure what to do, what Theon is asking of him – maybe touching the tip? Going faster?

He glances at the cock, lividly big, throbbing.

And he bows, taking it into his mouth, while he can feel Theon's fingers claw his curls, pushing him closer and screaming. His name.

He is beautiful and Robb resents him a tiny bit for being so handsome. Because he has no control over how much he likes him and even less control over the whole situation to be fair.

Robb hates how his name echoes and sounds and tastes when Theon says it.

It's sweet and burning. It's caramel and lava.

He should be the one in power right now, his mouth swallowing Theon's whole manhood, his tongue torturing it, his throat against the tip – he should be in power, while Theon buckets into him, needy and on the edge.

Oh, but it matters so little...

Theon doesn't need to push his head down for him to want to suck that cock like the most voracious whore in the world.

The way he wriggles and writhes under him, feverish and dark, makes Robb's blood boil.

He can feel his head light and his breath heavy.

His blood pumps to his crotch, pools in his balls and hardens in his veins.

It's so different than it was with Jeyne, it barely makes sense to think about both of them as sex. And not because Jeyne wasn't cute or sweet or because he...

But.

But he never felt like having sex with her. He knew that if he liked her that was what he was supposed to do, to make happen.

He knew he had to. He didn't mean to hurt her, he never meant to lie to her.

But Theon... Theon felt like a frenzy, a liqueurs dense pleasure, under his skin. He couldn't extirpate the need he felt, it put roots inside his bones and set them alight with each kiss.

He was adrenaline and electricity, he was poison and honey.

And each kiss, each movement, it made Robb hungrier and hungrier, tearing a hole in his groin for more.

Theon bends over him, pulling him so close that Robb can only smell and see the salty ruffled hair on his base, he can feel Theon's arms around his neck pressing him so that his throat feels compressed in a delicious grasp. His mouth gets filled, his throat immersed in the salty cum taste, and then Theon's cock going soft against his tongue.

He lets him out gently, cum and saliva gently folding out on the tip.

His breath trembles as he stares at the boiling water between them.

Theon grabs his face between his hands and pulls him close, forging a kiss, lapping and tasting the flavour of Robb's mouth. He brushes the copper stubble with his fingertips, he caresses the jawline and the squared corner. Robb almost purrs against Theon's big tongue inside him, moaning chocked and wetted.

Theon parts just to take his jeans completely off. And then he stares at Robb, panting, red.

“Come here...”

 

*

 

“When can we meet again?”

Theon blinks, raising his mouth from the pillow. He rubs his eyes and Robb tries not to think of him with tenderness.

Just sex. Just sex. Just-

“Umh, I have to do make-up at a wedding tomorrow. Bride and maids, it will take all morning, but they invited me to stay for it.”

Robb for a moment thinks Theon is considering him as a plus one.

Theon for a second wishes Robb would ask to join with any excuse.

“Then... the day after I have a photo-shoot at 3 pm, but I'm free from then one.”

“Oh, sure, dinner?”

“Do you plan to talk? - Theon chuckles, amused – You can eat before, I will too, we can meet here or at your place.”

“Hm, I live with my family, so...”

“I see. - he frowns, annoyed, maybe he thinks it's an excuse – Then we can meet here.”

“Look, hm, I- - he breathes in – A dinner doesn't mean anything... it's dinner, you know? We get something easy going...”

“Easy going?”

“A burger with fries?”

Theon stares at him and blinks slowly, “...do I look like I eat fries?”

“You are way too skinny if you ask me. - Robb chuckles – You look like you could use a couple of extra pounds.”

Theon grins but seems angry. Something stung and burnt. Robb was not sure why.

“It could be my metabolism.”

“You just said you don't eat fries...”, Robb points out, tentatively, tapping a weird wrong crack in the glass fabric of the air.

“It's none of your business though.”, he swallows and somehow his voice sounds dry.

Robb nods and swallows, frowning, “I'm sorry, I- Just wanted to spend time with you.”

“Why?”

“I want to talk, we don't have to be serious but... I'd like to know you, that's all.”

Theon hesitates.

It felt good and it scared him enough. He knows by now what to think of when it seems too good.

Nothing good.

 

*

 

Theon shouts and curses.

He suffocates a moan against the mattress, his jaw opens wide and no formed words come out. Only moans collect, rotten and drenched and boiling, as he clenches the sheets.

Robb kisses his back and ears, sucking the soft flesh, nibbling it at times tenderly, at times without regards. He holds him under the stomach, pulls him closer and sinks into him, one thrust at a time, deeper and harsher. Theon is left with words dead and muted in his throat, just grunts, piling in the air.

Robb places a soft kiss on his lobe, pushing, he sniffs his dark smell.

He gives a low groan against it, rubbing his nose, his heavy breath tilting and twitching and making Theon tighter around him.

He clenches the sheets, his knuckles white as snow, and shivers all around him, keeping him in, sucking him. Robb thrusts and pushes, staring in awe and arousal at Theon's back twitching as they both come, undone and unravelled.

Theon almost falls on the bed completely, until Robb takes him and pulls him in his arms.

He grabs him almost forceful, almost too strong and catches him in a kiss, getting back an exhausted moan.

“Hey...”

“... hey.”

“How was it?”

“Do you really need to hear you are good after each fuck? - he laughs – Insecurity is not sexy, boy.”

“I'm sorry. - he raises the eyebrows – You just... well.”

Theon kisses his chin.

“You're cute too.”

Robb holds him tight, “Can I ask something?”

“Sure, shot.”

“What are the spots on your back? - he blinks, playing with Theon's locks – I thought about freckes or wird birthmarks at first, but... they are a bit large and white, like some sort of vitiligo... but so regular...”

“Why do you ask?”, Theon stiffens.

“I find them pretty. - Robb admits, half in a chuckle – But I never saw something like that...”

Theon falls silent, he stares in front of himself, half in the void.

“They are just... skin spots. That's all.”

Robb frowns, he is unsure why Theon got so colder.

“Skin spots? They were there since birth or...?”

“Can you stop? - Theon breaks the hug moving away – It's honestly none of your business. I'm fucking serious. You are not my boyfriend-”

“I know.” he shouts, husky.

Theon flinches.

Robb lowers his head, “I'm sorry”, he mumbles, standing up and searching for his clothes.

 

*

 

Sansa is radiant and worried all together.

She is guessing that finally her brother managed to find a boyfriend or someone he likes because he looks always absent-minded, he is away most nights and he often has little red stains on his neck or ears. He looks happy, but nervous too – afraid almost. But that was good to Sansa.

Robb being afraid must have meant he had something he cherished and was afraid to lose.

The bonds of blood were tight and safe, but those of love ask for work and are fragile.

And it can hurt.

Robb enters home before she should go to school, with a big bad bitemark on his neck he could barely hide with the scarf and look alternating between a full smile to an unclear sadness.

She is unsure if she should encourage him or ask him if he's fine.

He goes straight to Bran and ruffles his hair.

Jon glares at him, “Again?”

“Again. - a sigh – Don't make drama about it.”

Jon shrugs and shakes his head, “Bad pancake.”

“Why bad pancake?”, Sansa asks, stealing a croissant from the breadbasket.

Bran looks curious but doesn't ask out loud, he just shuts up and listens.

“Robb hit on a guy who is not really into commitment.”

“He is enough for both of them probably, he almost popped the question to a girl he didn't actually love.”, Bran mumbles.

“That was brutal.”

“Sorry, somebody has to be realistic in this household.”

“That's why you are my favourite. - Robb ruffles his hair – Now, return to honouring me and be a prick to someone else.”

“Arya is starting to punch me hard when I do, so no.”

Robb sighs.

Jon looks at Sansa again, “He is a horrible guy. One of those vain people with all their clothes skinny.”

“... is this supposed to make me hate him? - she turns to Robb – Do you like him?”

Robb grins instinctively then sees Jon glaring at him and scoffs, “Me? Him? Nah. It's just sex.”

She raises an eyebrow, “You? Just sex?”

“Bran probably shouldn't have heard this part.”

“I'm not sure how to explain to all of you that the wheelchair doesn't change my going through puberty. I'm not a kid anymore, I know what sex is.”

“I know, but if mom discovers you even heard about sex from us she will kill us all.”, Jon points out and everyone agrees.

“Okay, but... who is this mysterious man? - Sansa smiles – Can I see a picture?”

Robb becomes pale, “Ah you know, I mean... probably better not, you could get fond of him.”

“From a picture?”

“He... has puppy eyes? Very very fondness-grabbing.”

“Robb. - she squints her eyes – What are you hiding from me?”

“Nothing...”

She becomes pale, “How old is he? Do you have a daddy kink? Did you get a sugar daddy, Robb? You are too good for that stuff. I know the beard can be charming but...”

“No! - he screams, horrified – Ew!”

Jon turns to her, “...beards, really?”

“What is a girl to do?”

“...I wish I could wash my brain with bleach.”

“Technically, you can.”

“Bran, no.”

Robb sighs and stares at Sansa, “He made me promise not to say anything.”

“Why would he? - her eyes become wide - … is he someone famous? Oh my god, is he theoretically straight? Is he married?”

“No, I mean... I don't think so, not that I know.”

“That's a bit gross.”

“Thank you, Jon. You like pegging.”

“What's pegging?”

“Another time, Bran.”

Sansa glares at them, “He is famous, isn't he?”

Robb sighs, “I can't tell you!”

She turns to Jon. He was the weak link of the chain.

“But you do know.”

Jon goes pale, “Don't ask me directly, please.”

“I know what you did with Rickon's miniature pony.”

“It was an accident!”

“Will Rickon think so?”

Bran whispers, “Sansa scares me sometimes...”

Robb sighs and bursts, “You already saw his photos. A lot of them.”

“...is he an actor?”

“Not, not really...”

Sansa blinks, “But then, hm...”

Jon groans, “Presents, Sansa.”

Her eyes go wide in awe. Her jaw drops.

Robb puts his hand in the front, pleading eyes, “Please, don't tell anyone.”

Sansa shakes her hands in front of him, half furious for that request.

Then nods, accepting. Not happily.

 

*

 

Theon that day opens the door with tons of blues on the upper part of his face and gold flakes on his lips. He grins and Robb thinks it makes sense for him to be the universe.

Theon throws him on the sofa and rides him that day.

Robb curses and moans, coming into him and hoping for his heart to break and stop aching so.

 

*

 

He pulls Theon's hair and he hisses, while pleasure sparks on his back and bursts out of him in a thrust. He grabs Robb's face and kisses him carelessly, teeth clacking and biting and his nails now getting a tiny bit too long. He didn't feel the need to cut them in a long time.

Robb slams into him more, Theon places his hand on his mouth to shut up. His eyes gleam in desire as Robb empties himself, hitting his sweet spot again, merciless, before half-falling over him.

Theon screams his name again.

He always does.

He always does.

It's hope and despair. A double-edged razor.

Theon grabs Robb and kisses him again and his lips quiver with something he surely wants to say, but he lets it drown again in the bottom of his throat.

And Robb wants to say the same, but knows he can't.

He caresses Theon's hair.

“You are pretty.”

“I know.”

“No, you don't. - he laughs – Not in the sense I say it.”

Theon chuckles and moves his face away, “Funny.”

“I loved Casablanca.”

“What?”

“The movie. - he swallows, then smiles, then his eyes fill up in a sadness veiled in hope – I loved it. I hated On the Waterfront, though, I didn't... I mean, I loved it but fuck it hurt. And.. well, Lady from Shangai was weird but I'm seeing the pattern here and I...”

Theon looks confused.

“Why did you watch them?”

“...your movies.”

“What?”

Robb stares, desperate. Theon seems to beg him to deny what he fears.

Silence is thick and heavy between their chests.

“I think you should go...”

“Theon, I-”

He doesn't need to tell him to go again, though, because Robb sees in those eyes a fear that he feels disgust in the idea of being derived by him. It feels dirty, it feels like his organs were made of decomposed lies piling up.

“I'm sorry. - he lowers his eyes – I'll come back tonight, maybe.”

Theon doesn't reply.

He wants him to, he wants him not to, he wants both, he wants nothing at all.

 

*

 

When Robb comes back, not that day as promised, but the night after, Theon throws himself on him and kisses him. His lips tremble and Robb doesn't dare to ask.

The dim blue lights make Theon look paler and more fragile, somehow, than he ever looked. He can see now he has a small scar at the corner of his mouth, almost identical to one next to his eye – he usually covers both of them with makeup, they are small and yet their being so similar somehow stings.

Robb caresses his long hair and presses their lips together, making him lay on the sofa of some weeks before. Theon hides his face against his chest.

“You promised. We had a deal.”

His voice isn't hard, it can't keep being.

Robb shakes his head and laughs.

“I'm shitty, apparently, at keeping promises I don't want to keep.”

“That's quite selfish.”

“You'd be in asking me to go away. - he keeps Theon's face against him and sniffs his hair the colour of midnight seas – Please, let me.”

“Let you what? Stay? I am not good at relationships.”

“Let me know you.”

“There is nothing nice to know.”

Robb laughs, bitterly, “It doesn't have to be nice. I'm not nice.”

“You are nice... you are all sugar-coated cookies and a good boy from church.”

“God wouldn't like what I'm thinking about doing to you right now.”

Theon fills Robb's mouth, keeping it open, pulling him close.

When they part, Robb's hardon is pressing against Theon's legs.

“I can't do serious.”, Theon darts, staring in his eyes.

Robb pushes him against the soft surface of the sofa, before unzipping his jeans and unbuttoning Theon's, rubbing their erections together, making Theon bite his lips and arch in need.

“But you can't undo it, either.”

“I told you not to...”, he tries to protest while Robb squishes him down moving over him, making him hiss and moan. His voice gets just weak and boneless. Robb grabs his wrists and keeps them over his head, making Theon bucket his hips in the air.

“You underestimated yourself then. - Robb half roars, putting more pressure on the wrists and rubbing rougher against Theon's pained and tense groin – I want you.”

“I noticed.”, he laughs.

“You never understand.”

Theon smirks sadly, “You are a hopeless romantic. Maybe if we did it doggy style and you didn't watch my eyes, you wouldn't have dreamed of anything else.”

As he says it, Robb doesn't lose the inch of bitter mocking in it, the strained anger, but he feels more of it. He feels always more than Theon, he decides. Not that it is true, but it doesn't matter.

He turns him around and pulls down his jeans, exposing his ass and rubbing his cock against it, between the crack, roughly, pushing Theon back down, squishing him more.

Theon keeps tight a moan in the muzzle of his pride. His hands hurt but it doesn't matter.

Robb's head presses against his entrance and he squirms and rubs against it. He missed it, him, so.

“If you want me to be gentle, you'll need to ask me now.”

Theon chuckles, “Why would I?”

“I don't want to hurt you, I don't think I will control myself well.”

“Pain doesn't hurt me.”

Robb is not sure when he means, how it makes sense, but the moment after Theon is rubbing his ass against his cock, letting out lewd curse words and it doesn't matter anymore.

He wishes he could fuck him as nobody ever did.

He wishes he could be the best.

The unforgettable one.

Maybe, a part of him thinks, crazyly, maybe then he would stay. But he feels dirty as he knows that it's surely not about that.

He thrusts hard and full all at once.

When Theon writhes his skin spots seem lighter, they shine with the sweat on his back, and as he fucks him, hitting him, making him come once and then twice again, all he can think is they seem to form a R.

A weird heartache takes him thinking so. He pulls Theon and buckets into him, forcing him on his knees, as he can hit his prostate better, making him done and melted.

Making him his and his own and needy just for him.

At least for a bit. At least like that.

Theon this time doesn't scream his names, just “more” and “please”, he almost seems to cry while he comes, over and over.

Robb wishes he could break him as he takes him.

But Theon is not to be owned.

And he... he can't stop pumping and thrusting, as if marking him inside would have been of any actual use.

They were not animals.

And humans, humans never get marked. Not for long.

 

*

 

Theon's face is plastered on a new advertising for another useless colour he can't find anything special about. Sansa rants about that eyeshadows for days before he asks her for fucks sake to shut up.

Because it hurts, because he just has a body and she keeps behaving like he has a partner.

Sansa stares at him weirdly.

“It's a cyan blue. - she says, looking at him – You really don't know this colour?”

“It's just a colour, Sansa...”, he whispers, tiredly.

She puts the pan close to her eyes.

It's that colour.

“And then?”

Sansa seems to find him funny and saddening altogether, “It's exactly ours... well, your eye colour, Robb.”

“It's a case.”

“Of course... - she looks away – It's not like muses are a concept.”

 

*

 

Theon is holding onto him this time and stains their stomachs with cum, falling onto him. Robb keeps his jaw in his hand and jolts his mouth open with his tongue in a forceful kiss. He grabs his hip with the other hand and thrusts stronger until Theon screams and scratches his flesh naked.

Theon comes again in moments, his ass feeling torn apart and tensed to the verge of burning. It's too big and too deep for someone who came already but it doesn't matter, he wants him in, he wants him to torture his prostate, to break his flesh, to make him anew and his own.

Sometimes, with Robb, it feels like that.

It feels like... like his body is a new one.

Not possessed, not broken, not taken. His, his own and his only.

Theon jerks in pleasure, shouts, coming dry and feeling the raw skin beg for Robb to stop.

He has to stop himself before shouting his name.

He rolls out one “yes” after another, clenching onto him, feeling him so deep. His spine by then feels like heat fused it, like there never was anything else in his back than an ass made to be fucked until all of his body...

He arched his head back, he lets all the pleasure come back into him again.

He is not sure how he didn't faint yet, tired as he is, but he just holds onto Robb, onto his kisses and for a bit it all seems good.

Robb comes into him, hitting the prostate for the umpteenth time which sends Theon in a cumless ecstasy and a heaven of mute afterglow. He closes his eyes, leaning against Robb.

“I love you...”, he whispers.

And Theon pretends he didn't hear it.

He moves his lips, careful not to let out any sound.

Robb can't know ; that would be a mess.

 

*

 

That morning, when Robb exits Theon's apartment, he sees a man on a bench.

Weird, graceless, quite unkind on the eye.

He can't avoid noticing he looks at Theon's window, but is careful not to be close.

He just stares from a bench of the close by park.

Robb is pretty sure those are 100 meters.

He sees him for the next week and then the month after another week. He wonders if he is another one like him, waiting for his turn with his strange kind of man.

 

*

 

Robb can't sleep and Theon can't quit smoking.

He kisses his shoulders and earns a laugh and a kiss back, while Theon keeps drawing with his coloured pencils on the draft book he uses for brides.

He plays with Theon's fingers and Theon lets him. Until he tries to take away that ring he always keeps on, then Theon gets nervous and throws a tantrum.

Robb starts to think they are excuses to have make up sex and can't complain, because it's the best tasting pain he ever had and Theon tastes even more delicious after he had been angry and finally softens under his hands.

“Do you have anybody else?”

“I told you, we're not exclusive.”

“It's not what I asked.”

“I don't. - Theon mumbles, almost sad, almost concerned – I don't.”

When he fucks him that night, Theon screams again his name and rides him eagerly, staring at their melting spot. He moves quickly as if he wanted to suck him dry or milk him out.

Robb notices his look is different this time.

As if.

… as if he adored him and their bodies finding each other.

He can't resist and he whispers again “I love you” as soon as Theon falls asleep, still with his cock, now flaccid but not for long, against his ass. Theon doesn't move, that's how Robb is sure he is not actually asleep.

But he can't dare anything else.

He is a coward. But he needs him to know.

Because maybe, then maybe... maybe he will consider it.

 

*

 

His laugh sounds of metal and echoes plastic in taste.

Robb turns, “Do we know each other?”

The ugly man nods. He has the eyes the colour of dirty snow at the border of pavements bruised by cars.

“By the six degrees of separation. - he gives a creepy smile – Or by one, rather.”

“Would you care to expand?”, Robb asks, stiffing.

“Are my leftovers still the good slut they were?”

His laugh is as dense as acid and as sour as the taste it leaves in his mouth.

Robb swallows, “Excuse me?”

“Theon Greyjoy of course. - another chuckle – He was a good ride, wasn't he? Until he just forgets all you gave him, that ungrateful whore.”

Robb stands up, “Look, you are clearly bitter over it, so I'm...”

“..aren't you too? - he raises an eyebrow – You look like an underdog half the times you leave.”

“It's honestly none of your business.”

“He'll spit you out too, lover boy. It's what he does. And then it's always somebody's else fault.”

“I think you've drank too much.”, Robb says, cold anger rising, as he takes his jacket and prepares to leave.

“You may fuck his ass well, lover boy, it won't serve you much. He can't love.”

Robb sighs and turns.

His siblings always say he gets angry once a year. He is guessing today is the day.

 

*

 

“What the fuck has gotten into you?”, Theon shouts, so loud Robb fears he could eat him alive. And not in the good way.

He keeps the bag of frozen peas against his black eye.

“He spoke shit about you.”

“You are not my boyfriend, Robb. - he roars – And he is dangerous, he could have hurt you.”

A bitter laugh, “Maybe you overestimate him out of lovey-dovey memories, he was pretty weak.”

Theon squints his eyes, crossing his arms, “Excuse me...?”

Robb snorts, “Isn't he your ex?”

“He is. - he taps his foot on the floor – And you are not my current. Get out.”

“What?”, Robb stands up, incredulous, almost furious.

“Get. Out.”

Theon doesn't see the pea bag fly on the other side of the kitchen and break, but he stays there, staring at the empty air, petrified.

“You told me you don't do relationships, but fuck Theon, that man was heartbroken...”

“Heartbroken?”, Theon scoffs, mocking and yet hurt. As if he felt like puking from a dagger in his guts.

“Yes! - Robb shouts – Yes, and so much. It must be recent.”

He grabs Theon's wrists.

Theon doesn't seem to flinch, not this time, he just stares at Robb half-hurt and half-angry, a grimace over his face.

“Who is that guy, eh? - he shouts – What is it? It ended badly and then no more relationships? Was he like me Theon? Was he like me?”

Theon doesn't reply, he just shakes his head, jolting a bit, erratic, nervous.

Robb's breath gets thick.

“Was he like me!”

It's not a question anymore.

Theon's arms are crossed more tightly, “He didn't whisper me I love yous when he thought I was sleeping, if this is what you are asking for.”

“If you knew, you could have replied.”

“You knew the rules!”

Robb slams a chair away with a kick, “I'm not a soldier. You can't give me a rule not to love you.”

“It was the only rule!”, Theon shouts.

“You are a dirty jerk!”

“Surprised you didn't say “whore” at this point...”

“Maybe I should. - he shouts, his eyes were shining for some reason and Theon just hopes for them not to be tears - ...fuck, fuck, you had something serious with him, isn't it?”

He is roaring like a wounded wolf by then and Theon can feel his lips tremble and his heart clenching.

“What do you care to know? - his smile turns sour, acid, its sharp point pierces through his flesh and stabs him through his stomach – Do you want to know about how we were together and he fucked me well? How I liked his wild teeth on me and how I came under him? Or you care for the part where he broke my lip and cut it in half? Would you care for the part in which he broke two teeth with a hammer and then smashed it on my leg? Would it comfort you, soothe your jealousy, if I told you I was his ashtray and my skin burned under his laugh? - his eyes show no tears, just ice and his lips quiver and tremble, as he remembers, it gives him nausea that rides up his tongue – Do you want to hear about how he fucked me with a gun? Cutting my ass and making me beg for him to substitute it with his cock and then pee in me? Would you want to know while he did and filled me up, he kept the gun close to my head, then in my mouth and made me suck it? - he takes a few steps back, almost falls then holds his own head, laughing again – Do you care to hear about people laughing at me when I told it to the police? How I started this job to cover my own bruises and scars? How nobody believed me? And you don't either, but I'm not surprised. I sometimes also try to believe it never happened. - his smile crumbles, his voice just grows spiteful – But, hey, Robb, maybe you are right, maybe I broke his heart. Should I go ask sorry? Or would that make you jealous then again?”

Robb turns white.

His eyes seem to lose colour too and his mouth makes a chocked sound.

“I didn't mean to...”

Theon comes closer to him. And now he is the one about to cry.

He looks so small and so thin that Robb knows he almost tore him like paper.

Or maybe he did, truly.

Like a jerk.

“Do you want to clean my ass from him because it burns someone was there before? Do you wish to clean my whole insides from his fucking presence? Please, do, fucking do. - he spits on his face and Robb just lowers his eyes – Before you call me dirty again, consider you don't know how it feels to have the sperm and pee of your rapist inside and feeling them rotting in you and make you rotten too. It's not sex that made me dirty. It's people like you, who need to own whatever they touch, them and them alone, you...”

“Not everything, you!”

“Is that supposed to make me feel flattered? - he smiles again, a grin, thin as a dying moon – You don't own people.”

“But you own me, Theon. - he burst, clenching teeth and fists, his veins big and pulsing like thunders in the empty night – You own me, you fuck me up, you keep me here tied to you constantly. You are a fucking oxygen tank, a damn diving lung. And I hate it. - he almost growls, he grabs him by the arms and presses, squishing bruises out of the ivory skin – I hate needing you this much. I hate needing you to this fucking point, do you even get it? Do you get how it feels seeing a boy telling me he is your ex and wanting to fucking smash his head against a wall? Do you think I like being like this? Being so... so... - his thumbs gets softer, his eyes melt down – I was never like this.”

“Then. - he laughs, it's a strangled laugh that attaches to his palate and come off chocked and dry - ...what? Is it something I do? The whore Greyjoy can't be trusted unless we fucking tie him down? Will you also need to mark me with a nice R of cigarettes? Look, you have the job half-done already, isn't it lucky?”

Robb's lips tremble and he pulls Theon close for a kiss, pressing his lips over his own. He leans his forehead against Theon's.

“I'm sorry...”, he whispers, weakly.

“...maybe you should go away.”

“No, wait, I, - Robb pauses, holds him, he is crying and Theon bites his bottom lip, cursing himself for being absolutely unable to force him out now that he has those huge blue eyes full of tears – I would never do that to you, I'm not... fuck, there must be a line between... being a jealous jerk and being a full blown sociopath.”

And, dammit, he was right.

But something struck Theon like a thunder.

“Are you admitting you were a jerk?”

“An absolute jealous jerk. - Robb sighs and stares at the ceiling – And, yes, you know what, if I could I'd probably tie you in a cage and never let you out, because... because how did you happen to me? You are... funny, you are smart, witty, you are complex and cool...”

He shakes his head, “Are you trying to flatter me?”

“No! - his eyes are desperate and as he breathes his ribcage shivers – Let me finish... I'm the boy who goes with his mom to mass not to come out, who buys his clothes at the sweater town fair and whose favourite movie is Braveheart.”

“...that... that is quite hard to digest, I admit.”, Theon laughs slightly, biting his lip.

“You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, I know you think- well thought, before all of this mess, that it's the opposite, but no. My life before you was so... dull. That... as soon as this guy came and told me he was your lover, I lost my mind, I thought he... I thought he was the thing you couldn't get over and... it was true in a way, not the way I thought, but... it was?”

Robb gives a little apologetic awkward 36 teeth smile and Theon passes his hand on the terrible sweater he is wearing. And he knows he shouldn't forgive all of this.

But the look he had when he said “I love you” haunts his heart and forces him to realize he did move his lips and reply that night. In silence. But he did. He said “me too”.

“You were a jerk.”

“One hundred percent.”

“So, you're buying me dinner.”

“I'd be honoured to.”

He smiles, tenderly, staring at Robb's chest, “...screw it, I- I'm not hungry, I... I still kinda feel like puking, but, you'll bring me to dinner, one of these days. I want to meet the sister who is such a big fan of me and the brother who has a grumpy expression and all the others I forgot the number of. - he pats it and then leans in and kisses Robb's jaw – And tonight, tonight I want you to sleep here. No sex, no... not my usual games... if I gave you the confirms you asked of me before, you wouldn't get so scared...”

“You don't have to justify yourself, you-”

“I'm committing, Robb. - a little joking slap on the cheek – Don't interrupt me when I'm trying to sound dramatic, okay?”

Robb's hands hold his waist as he grins, “I'm very sorry, please, repeat it again.”

“Ah-a, you lost your occasion...”

“Please...”

“I'm committing to you. - he pokes his nose – But I don't want to see that jerk anymore, clear?”

“Jerk obliterated.”

“Good. - a grin, he puts his arms around Robb's neck, licks his lips and rolls his eyes, shining slightly – I... I've never been as his as I'm yours. I've never belonged to him an inch of how I feel I... I match with you. You don't need to tie me down.”

“I don't... want to. - he shakes his head – I want you to choose me, every morning.”

Theon smiles, shining, “You're so sappy, William Wallace.”

“Don't call me like that, I'll get hard.”

“...we need to speak about this Braveheart thing.”

 

 


	5. Heartbreak Hotel

**#23 – Scissorhands – R**  
Robb is a young gay boy, very much in love with his apparently really straight best friend Theon, all seems to go fine and nice in their denial, until Robb's mother tries to convince her song to bring young neighboor girl Jeyne at the Winter Dance.  
Additional tags: Angst, Internalized Homophobia

* * *

 

**Heartbreak Hotel**

 

Robb laughs. And his voice cuts through Theon's mood like a knife through butter.

He gives him one of his smirks, sly and thin, and shakes his head, laying it against the car seat. He takes out a cigarette and lights it and the darkness burns in them a bit redder.

Robb swallows.

He put a lock of his hair behind the ear, letting his eyes wander in the car, not nailed on Theon's beautiful and cutting smile.

God, he wants him.

He dreamed of Theon so long and so foolishly, so deeply he is unsure how to dream otherwise.

Outside it’s cold; Theon puts his hand on the car heater, he chugs down some Jack and then gives him a crooked mischievous smile.

“So, what was that fight I witnessed? - he laughs – You and your mom? That's rare.”

“Eh. - he shrugs his shoulders – It was not really a fight, she is just getting insistent.”

Theon raises an eyebrow, “For your standards, it is, momma’s boy. What is she so fixated upon?”

Robb sighs.

He daydreams of stealing Theon's bottle from his hands and then drinking from his lips.

He swallows, “She wants me to bring Jeyne Westerling to the Winter Ball.”

Theon laughs so hard he almost chockes himself.

“How dignified.”, Robb snarks, giving him a pinch.

Theon is still coughing and claps hysterically, “Oh my god, you two would be the most boring couple ever! I can imagine you two like this 50s style dollhouse couple, oh christ almighty.”

“Geez, thanks.”

“You need a girl who sets you lose, dude, not miss Catholic School with rules about the length of their socks.”

Robb groans and shakes his head, “Jerk.”

Theon lowers his eyes, he looks nervous, his mouth’s corners go up and down quickly and he bites his lips for a second.

“So... will you?”

“What?”

“Take her.”

“No. - Robb snorts – I mean, she is cute but...”

His glance falls on Theon's arm, on his wrist and hand – bones, veins, muscles, hard corners and strong tips. No grace, no softness, no roundness.

He looks on Theon's hands, so big, with the tense veins blue and big riding his bones and the knuckles out.

He forces himself not to think about where he wants that hand.

Theon's cigarette is almost just a crumble between his lips and it extinguishes quickly and Robb thinks he is not much different.

“... I won't, that's all.”

“Why?”

Theon's voice echoes inside him thick and dense, he almost feels its touch.

Ah, he can feel his mind wandering again...

A fake smile, “You really don't know?”

Theon stares at him a bit, then lowers his eyes, bitter. He breathes out smoke, he lights a new cigarette without a comment.

Robb licks his bottom lip slowly.

There's so much love he feels to be flooding and spilling out of him.

Theon pushes his hair back, showing his forehead as he lets out a thin cloud of smoke in the car.

His lips are red and chapped from the cold winter air.

They look soft to Robb, though.

“You should move to ask someone, though. - he chuckles, not looking at him – Or you'll end up going with me...”

Robb blinks.

Did he just...?

A tilted smile kidnaps his lips, naive and furiously unstoppable. His eyes shine.

Theon wouldn't joke about that, would he?

He is shyly avoiding looking at him, stubbornly staring away... oh, god, he must have meant it.

Robb's heart is racing.

He feels it in his ears like the din dim of a drum.

Theon takes out the cigarette and extinguishes it against the plastic ashtray.

Robb can't help but to consider that, yes, yes, maybe he meant it and – oh, now Theon is looking at him and is about to make that smirk, he can see it about to be born, which he makes to wash away something he just said when he thinks it will get him in trouble.

But Robb can't allow it.

He slams his lips against Theon's. He catches them, haunts them and kisses them, hungry and desperate like the kid he is.

They are so soft, so sweet.

He parts slowly, trembling, as scared that it is unreal, as scared it will all fade. He can feel his bottom lip tingle.

He opens his eyes again and sees Theon stiff, confused, horrified.

After a couple of seconds, he can just feel his arm and elbow slamming against his chest, pushing him on his side of the car.

“What the fuck!”

He screams. He shouts. He frowns and spits and rubs his lips clean.

Clean of him.

Robb stares, mouth half-open, words tied up and sown up inside someplace in his throat.

“I, I'm sorry, I just...”

“You just what! - Theon shouts – Wasn't me fucking girls quite a sufficient proof of me not being a fucking faggot?”

“No... I, look...”

“I'm not! - he yells, his chest swollen and then empty in seconds and then again like a frog while it’s getting a vivisection– I'm not.”

“I am, though.”, Robb yells too more for imitation than anything. Fat round tears rolling down his eyes.

His lips keep trembling and he bites them to keep them in place.

“I'm sorry, I... - he laughs – Guess now you know why I didn't invite Jeyne Westerling to the ball.”

Theon seems to calm down, his glance runs on his friend, before quick then slow.

He pauses on his sad look and they stare at each other a long while.

Theon wants to ask something, but he doesn't dare.

Robb can guess: do you like other boys or only me? Are you really gay? Are you just really into me? How long have you grossly felt this faggotry towards me? Do you like jerk off to me? And other amazing variations.

Theon stares at him, biting his lips.

He can feel his own heart pounding so strongly as if it wanted to hollow his flesh and escape his ribcage, as if it wanted to rush to Robb and find peace into him.

As if.

As if he could admit wanting him.

No, that would have been the end for him, his father he... no, no he couldn't have.

He had to break it apart, to cut the legs of this love before it could learn to stand up and walk and run and, oh, he had to do it quickly.

Robb's hand is on his arm as in a prayer.

And Theon thinks about what's the thing he manages to do best: let people down, disappoint them, hurt them. Sex is an art, but destruction is a talent.

He needs to cut it to shreds and pieces.

Before they both fall into it.

A grin comes on his face, sharp like a knife.

“Maybe you should. Maybe a good fuck with her will straighten you.”

 

 

 


	6. Baby, burn me nice, burn me whole

**#24 – Stockings and Ribbons – NC17/M**  
Robb Stark grew up in a very traditional family, due to that he isn't always vocal about what he'd like to try when it comes to sex. His boyfriend Theon finds something he could use for a very special Christmas eve.

**TW : drag, breathplay, spanking, v light bondage, v light powerplay**

* * *

 

**Baby, burn me nice, burn me whole**

 

* * *

 

 

Theon knew, when he picked Robb, that this would have been an issue.

Of course he knew.

Robb: the golden boy of their school, the gentle yet firm captain of the football team, the adorably unexpected nerdy boy who graduated with the best marks in European Medieval and Renaissance history, the good son who learnt to cook at ten for his army of brothers and who still made (and ate secretly, of course) chocolate chip cookies for the church charity fairs and Robb the boy who was the most reluctant man he ever met when it came to being blunt about sex.

Theon always had to guess.

Not that it was a problem, after all.

He found it... funny. In a way, it was endearing.

Discovering one by one all the ways to send him insane, break his good boy facade and all his perfect citizen composure had been a delight. 

He discovered a lot of really entertaining quirks: the absolute oral fixation, the thing he has for being scratched on the back, that point on the neck that makes him go insane... but lately he knew that Robb was thinking about something. He could spot it in his eyes, it was a quick and lewd gleam, when they were having sex, like he were about to ask something and then didn't dare to.

Theon tried to get it out of that pouty little mouth in every way, but Robb was as stubborn as a mule.

So now that Robb is sleeping next to him – ungracefully starfishing in the middle of the bed with Theon not exactly reluctantly resting his head under his arm – Theon is wondering what could this new kink be. Surely something he was actually really ashamed of given how mortified he looked in lowering his head as he sent the thought away.

He sighs and rolls his eyes to the ceiling. He is sitting on the bed trying to fold the last shirts – and, god have mercy, Robb sure has a shamefully huge amount of lumberjack shirts – and mumbling to himself considering a mental list of possibilities.

At least, he feels he can safely exclude gross stuff. And actual pain.

Robb was really into biting and a bit of bruising and constricting, but the first times they had tried new stuff, Robb asked for confirms so much that once Theon got so frustrated he almost bit off his earlobe out of annoyance. He always hated losing orgasms.

What the hell could Robb want so much he couldn't dare ask for?

He opens the wardrobe and looks between the shelves for some space where to place the laundry, he has to move some stuff to find enough space and then something... soft, way softer than usual, at the touch, makes him frown.

Theon Greyjoy was not one to judge or kink-shame, generally, although... thinking Robb would have that stuff...

“What the hell?”

 

*

 

When Robb arrives home in the late evening, he is half yawning and his eyes feel as heavy as bowling balls. He undoes his tie and lands on the sofa with a heavy grunt and then a sleepish groan.

“Theon? - he mumbles, welcomed by no reply at all – … Theon?”

He stands up quickly, unnerved, he had seen enough episodes of crime shows to know no answer is never a good answer; he speed walks through the rooms and finds in the kitchen a bottle of red wine – Chateau Something de Something that probably cost roughly 80 bucks if he knew his husband's taste well enough – and a message “Upstairs”written in his long and thin handwriting. Robb draws a relieved breath, smiles a cocky grin and walks upstairs, bringing with him the bottle and two stem glasses, overloaded in a certain frenzied joy.

He opens the door slowly, leaning on the doorstep.

“So... - Theon's voice sounds like velvet and melted hot honey – Want to turn on the light?”

Robb laughs and searches for the switch, when the dim, warm, yellow light covers the room, he can feel his cheeks flush and his cock make a little jump of approval.

Theon is smirking on the bed, with a lewd grin and he is wearing lace underwear and deliciously black stockings, on his neck he put a silk scarf making a little bow with it.

“Thought you may enjoy an early Christmas present.”

“Fuck...”, Robb lets out a chocked groan staring at him.

Theon laughs rubbing himself on the bed making his little ass look really tempting.

Robb swallows, trying to contain himself, “Did you perchance look into my wardrobe?”

“You could have told me you'd like this. - Theon whispers seductively, rolling slowly on the bed, now showing Robb his cock not even barely covered by the girl panties – I would have accepted immediately.”

Robb lowered his eyes, “Don't you find it... degrading or...?”

“Robb. - his voice is suddenly very firm, almost authoritative – I'm not making you spoil half an hour of preparation, come here and fuck me numb.”

He grins, nodding, takes off his shirt, unbuttoning it a bit too slowly, and places himself on the bed, knees at the sides of Theon's hips, blocking him under. Theon bites his bottom lip and frees it very slowly, elated in how Robb stared at him enchanted.

He can almost imagine his blood pulsing and boiling low. He can taste his groin starting to pull the pants, that little tent forming and praying for some merciful attention.

Theon licks his lips and raises his leg, rubbing his knee against Robb's balls, feeling his cock hardening through the thick fabric of the pants. He glances at him, smouldering, scorching, and as Robb moves slightly behind, he then rubs his foot against his crotch.

Robb strangles a moan and breathes in, air trembling in his lungs, while Theon's sly fakely innocent grin turns more and more mischievous and flattered. Damn, if he likes the power.

He looks almost drunk on it and his eyes are lewdly incandescent.

Robb throws his shirt completely away and starts undoing his belt, while Theon's foot torments his crotch; he licks his lips ever so slowly, keeping his eyes on Robb, making him sweat in anticipation.

“You look beautiful...”, he mumbles.

“I know that. - Theon grins – You're speaking too much for my taste.”

“Sorry, I'll put a fix to it...”

“Good.”

“But first... - his hands travel on Theon's neck, untying the ribbon wrapped on it – This was not its intended use.”

Theon sticks his tongue out then passes it on the teeth, “Fix that too, then.”

He can't keep down his voice from a squirmed moan as Robb grabs his wrists and pulls them above the head, keeping Theon down and blocked. His bottom lip trembles, arousal making his cock twitc blissfully and painfully against the tight stockings.

His breath falters and his lips bend in a sharp foreboding smirk, while Robb knots the scarf, trying it around the wrists and against the bedstand bars. Theon couldn't avoid a wide sultry smile, he tries to raise up to catch Robb's lips in his own but, fuck, the other tied him up well enough for him to fail and end up against the mattress again in a second.

He can knot well, good to know.

Theon is tempted to pout and protest, but the vague electric shock he felt crossing his veins and climb down to his groin at the idea of actually being trapped under him, well, that was somewhat convincing. He moves his hips under Robb, rubbing now their crotches together, then his knee against his swollen cock.

“Eager.”, he gets called back.

“Kiss me.”

Robb seems to hesitate for a moment, “Can I do more?”

Theon nods, half wondering what he means half already too hard to actually care, and Robb takes off his tie from his pocket and swallows, staring at Theon's neck and gaining back the most ludicrously aroused smile.

“Want to put a collar on me, Stark?”

“Perhaps.”

“I'm afraid it won't look good with the rest of my attire. - he admits, then evilly pressing his knee against Robb's balls and rubbing it making him suffocated every grunt less and less successfully – But if you don't mind...”

Robb puts it on Theon and tightens it already maybe as a warning maybe to re-establish who is commanding, either way Theon arches in pleasure at feeling his hands pulling the tie just enough to make his breath miss for a moment. It feels good, it feels like too much wine.

As Robb is still close enough, Theon pushes himself as high as he can and kisses him, bites his lip and moans on the verge of their mouths, voracious and needy. Robb passes a hand on Theon's back and waist, keeping the tie with the other and staring mesmerized at the results of his pulls and touches.

His fingertips draw lines down Theon's spine making him arch and moan, warm breath climbing his way to the ceiling, whines running one after the other in the air. Theon shivers and writhes, rubbing his crotch against Robb's stomach, now desperately, whining frustrated.

Robb chokes up a whine pulling the tie and making him pant breathless and voiceless.

His hand travels down Theon's spine, then scratches on his loins, making him twist in a squirmy jump, his cock now throbbing through the panties and stockings. Theon's eyes shine in a weak gleam, desperate for being touched there, where it mattered, instead of uselessly teased.

But Robb has just started; he keeps him close now and forces a kiss, tongue filling his mouth, taking over his voice, overtasting his moans and that voice drenched in need, pushing to the back of his throat. When Theon's eyes roll back, he jerks the tie again, making him emit a strangled, suffocated moan of pleasure directly into him.

He enjoys it, how sweet it tastes: Theon struggling, for air, for sex, for him.

He softens the clench of the tie, letting him breathe again, but the pants sound like trembles, wetted shivers, in a glimpse, Robb can feel he shouldn't be even more aroused seeing Theon reduced to such a whimpering, slutty mess. Then again, he is, he grabs the jaw and pulls him close, this time allowing also Theon's tongue into his mouth, seeing him smile through it. He places his forehead against Theon's and waits for his heartbeat to slow slightly, before returning down, this time completely. 

He widens Theon's legs, placing himself between them, passing his arms under the knee and trapping him still.

Theon tenses up, unsure what to expect next. When he feels Robb's hot tongue against his manhood, he jolts, tries to kick, like an impatient colt, but Robb's arms reveal themselves stronger than he thought – or than he had let him think, more specifically. He bites his lips, to the blood, as he tries not to scream and moan at the languid, slow licks Robb is torturing his balls with through the too thin fabric. He wishes he could bite his hand right now, as Robb's tongue jerks and moves, now sweetly now mercilessly, on his engorged arousal, making his hips bucket and move erratically.

Need floods and rushes through his bones, rides his nerves, climbs through his fingertips and limbs ; his skin is reduced to embers about to be lit on a much bigger much more consuming flame.

Robb lets out a low laugh, “Are you fucking the air for relief?”

“Shut up...”, he whispers, frustration making his cock sting.

Robb chuckles again, his tongue returning to torment Theon, then his hand flat brushing on the shaft, rubbing it gently, slowly enough for Theon to go mad, quickly enough to not stop the teasing sensation. He cups the balls with part of the fabric in his mouth and sucks gently, taking a deep hard bliss in Theon's voice rising as the fabric pulls slightly tighter on his cock.

Theon arches, tenses, he pulls his own hands, almost hurting himself on the soft silk, pushing himself against Robb, grinding against his palm, begging for relief.

Robb grins and starts moving his hand fast, rubbing and jerking Theon to full hardness, seeing what was before barely covered by the panties completely pulling the stockings up, tip covering the nylon in precum, throbbing for release. Theon closes his eyes, curses, a word after the other, humping the hand fast and harsh over his cock, letting his nape sink into the sheets, abandoning any hope of dignity as his voice unravelled in lewd moans while Robb's tongue went from his balls to lick his shaft and head through the fabric.

Theon moves his head by side, trying to bite his own arm to stop the sounds coming out of him, whorey and lewd, wasted in heat. He shakes, tenses, jolts, taken all over, overwhelmed by need.

Robb courts and torments the head of Theon's dick, latching his lips fully over the tip, sucking it slightly, then running his tongue down the shaft, making Theon's nails clench onto his own palms.

He flinches, yelps, groans in discomfort while his painful erection strains for relief through the thin nylon.

Robb's hot tongue trails up and down, while one of his hands keeps massaging Theon's inner thigh, making him stiff in arousal. His moans are turning almost into a weep as scorching as fire.

As Theon's hips begin to tremble, Robb pulls the tie, leaving Theon arching his back in a muted jerk, his throat struggling for air, his cock as tense and red as his face. Theon's lips quiver and then Robb puts his hand again on the cock rubbing it right and left quickly. 

Theon is about to burst, his eyes nailed to the ceiling, his feet tense like violin chords, his cock pulling the stockings under Robb's merciless touch.

And then he softens the tie, letting him breathe and as he relaxes Robb jerks him rougher and make him come undone, orgasming in a pool of cum and high-pitched moans squirmed out in his drenched voice.

Robb raises his head from Theon's hips. He is also panting, his breath burning low in desire, his erection pressing through his half-undone trousers.

Theon swallows, licking his dried lips. His voice doesn't seem to want to come out.

Robb hesitates, “Did I ove...”

“Come close. - he orders – I want to kiss you.”

Robb smiles and obeys, laying his lips on Theon's for a soft kiss, gently passing his tongue over the bruised plump lips. He loses himself, his head spins and Theon smiles in the kiss, drowning himself too into its softness.

“Are your arms fine?”, he asks, kissing the armpits.

Theon laughs, “Gross. - his eyelids soften – Yes, they are quite willing to stay like that a bit longer...”

Robb nods then licks his lips, staring at Theon's neck like a wolf would stare down at a tasty bunny. He tilts Theon's face to expose his neck and then sinks down into it, jaw rubbing against Theon's collarbone, lips sucking the flesh of the neck, tasting the skin – salty and sweet all over altogether – and bites into it. 

Theon grins, feeling his blood boil as Robb sucks his skin as if he could drink through it all of him. The way his skin tingles and hurts and how it turns into a feverish shiver and pleasure and pure bliss through his nerves: that's all that matters, all he can feel. 

The little marks stay there, like a necklace or a waterfall of purple and red petals, one dropped after the other, all born between moans and begs. Robb almost growls against the neck, at times, his voice low and rusty as if it came down and out from somewhere else. Because that side of him, that side only Theon knew … his hungry wolf, his greedy, beautiful king.

He is quickly hard again and shakes, his wrists getting bruised by the tight soft rope.

He roars, annoyed at himself for being so needy and at Robb for being so good, “For fucks sake, leave that neck and shag me.”

Robb almost laughs, “Sure, I will.”

“Great. - he smiles, rubbing his ankles together – Now, help me take off the-”

“Ah-a. No.”

Jackass.

“What do you mean no? It's not like you can fuck me like this.”

“How uncreative of you.”

“...you're going to pay for this one.”

Robb ignores him and grins. He grabs Theon by his waist and turns him back up, making sure the knot doesn't force his hands in an uncomfortable position; Theon'ass up in the air just waiting to be ravished and caressed. Robb starts placing small kisses on the back, biting here and there, to make his boyfriend tense up in frustration and arch against him. His sweat and moans made him tastier and he was so kind to the eye.

Robb keeps being as gentle and soft as it's physically possible, elated in all the grunts turning into begging that Theon lets out, while his hand is already on the asscheek, brushing it sweetly.

A first spank makes Theon scream voiceless, his mouth agape against the air.

The second forces him to bites the sheets to suffocate a deeper moan.

Robb's face is grossed by a victorious grin when he sees how incredibly hard Theon is becoming.

At the third spank, Theon's restrictions fail and his voice comes oot as obscene as possible, in between a cry and a moan, indecently lecherous.

At the fourth, he sounded like a liqueur to chug down, soft and sweet and addictive, libidinous. He starts again to move his hips thrusting, grinding the sheets.

Robb kisses the ass, he passes a finger over the crack, too slow, wickedly too slow, while his other hand didn't cease slapping.

Theon shouts, his mind beyond dizzy and his body bruised by desire.

Robb bends that one finger, touching the outline of his entrance, teasing him.

“You're twitching.”

Theon groans, hiding his face against the sheets, as his ears become the color of Robb's curls.

Robb doesn't enter, he just stays over the line, caresses it enough for Theon to widen his legs without realizing, he passes over it making him let out lustful whines.

“Robb, please.”

“Please what?”

“Please!”, Theon almost shouts.

His face is burning, blushed and ashamed, needy and lewd. He feels damn empty, like his insides are just begging for Robb to fill them. And those stockings are so tight against him, compressing him, making him harder with the rubbing, and yet making him feel so...

“Please, fuck me...”

Robb's finger pushes and manages to enter into Theon, making him jolt. He can feel Robb's warmth through the fabric, he can feel all of him needing to be taken. He lets out another moan and moves against Robb's finger.

It always worked and so does again, Robb stares at him, getting beyond messy seeing just how much Theon wanted him inside. Theon smirks and lets out a couple louder, wetter moans, trying to hit his own prostate with Robb's finger.

As Robb notices, he takes the finger out and Theon is ready to protest, until he feels sudden cold. Robb ripped the stockings and thrusts three fingers inside him driving for the sweet spot and hitting it Theon's voice returns to be nothing more than a sticky puddle of howled moans. Once again pleasure rides him electric and jolts him in ecstasy.

Theon comes again, wetting again the delicate fabric, and pants hardly.

Robb grabs him by the hips, sinking his finger into his flesh, right over the Iliac crest, making Theon writhes again at feeling Robb's cock pressing against his ass. He breaks the stockings more with his hands and then pushes through him.

Theon arches his head back, raven hair falling on his back and shoulders, and Robb bites his neck from behind, while thrusting into him. Theon's lips tremble, his jaw falls open and his lungs burn in heat, unable to even form sounds anymore.

The bed squeaks under them, the stockings rip more and more, forming spider webs of thin lines at the sides of Theon's legs and hips, Robb's voice is darker – dense like blood – and his grunts muskier and murkier. His cock takes place inside him, tearing him open, filling him to the brink, leaving his walls on the edge of pain but never actually reaching it. It was just pleasure, pleasure all over while his raw flesh got fucked and his insides shaken and slammed in.

When Robb starts hitting his prostate again, Theon finally screams out in bliss and his eyes roll to the ceiling, his mouth agape, saliva dropping from his big wet lips.

Robb leaves the bruised neck and grabs his face, presses it between two fingers and kisses him hungrily, still thrusting into Theon's greedy insides, that keep sucking him in, getting tighter and tighter around his cock as arousal grew in them. Theon's voice scorches Robb too, and he bends and plunges in rougher, stronger.

Theon feels so hot all around him, Robb can barely contain himself by now, he starts moving more erratically, more rough and somehow that unkindness makes Theon lewder and louder.

He aims at Theon's prostate at every thrust just before slamming deeper into him.

He comes, clenching his hips on one side, grunting, emptying himself into a shaken, unravelled Theon still shivering from the afterglow of a dry orgasm frying through his bones.

Robb falls on the side, panting, his cheek still all flushed and his face glowing with happiness and sweat; it takes him a moment to roll close to Theon and untie his wrists – he shouldn't feel good in seeing the slight bruises on them, and a certain guilt guts in – ready to get scolded, but Theon turns to him in a twist that probably costs the exhausted boy all his energy. Theon kisses him passionately, sucking his bottom lip and with half-lidden eyes.

“Hey...”

Theon blinks slowly, “Hey... - he draws little circles on his chest – That was nice.”

“I'm glad it didn't freak you out.”

“It was a bit of a surprise, but not a bad one... - he laughs – I'm just wondering why there were not heels to go with this, honestly.”

Robb coughs, lowering his face, “... you just didn't find them.”

Theon laughs and passes his arms around Robb's neck, pulling him closer, “Well, I'll make sure to walk on you with them.”

“Only if you let me spank you again.”

Theon smirks and mumbles “Then I'll walk on you a lot.” before kissing him again.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	7. True Love™

**#13 – True Love™ – NC17/M**  
Robb lives between terrible dates picked by his sister and no dates at all, his job is also an embarrassing topic since his dream got smashed. All of this until one day the charming boy from the 3rd floor trips on the stairs.  
Additional tags: Sex, Sex with risk of being caught, Family matchmaking

* * *

 

**True Love** ™ 

 

He was an idiot, he knew.

But Sansa was insisting and insisting and insisting and she was so sad and her eyes were so big and what was he supposed to do? Sure, telling her he actually did find a boyfriend was not the best idea he had ever had, but he never claimed to be good at taking decisions under pressure.

What was he supposed to do?

Sansa knew all his friends and he couldn't exactly ask a stranger to just pretend to be his boyfriend so his adorable matchmaking little sister so afraid for his lonely heart would have calmed down and stopped trying to introduce him to hopeless cases.

Like the lizard guy. Brrr.

No, no, no, he needed a solution.

Has she met Jon's friend? Satin? But no, he was not close enough to ask anything like that.

He crumbled with his face against the book he was reading, pleading mercy, a sign, anything, but what he got was half a heart attack as a loud noise like the crashing of something damn heavy – a piano? A wardrobe? - seemed to happen in the corridor, followed by a series of heavily scottish-accented curse words.

He opened, without thinking.

“All fine?”

“Does it look fine to you?”, his neighbour turned to him, furious, his eyebrows furrowed, at his feet, something very similar to a huge violin crushed in at least six pieces, cords hanging sadly between them and wood everywhere.

As the man stared at Robb, though, he seemed to calm down, his eyes softened on the embarrassing Guns n' Roses t-shirt and boxers the red-head was wearing.

“Delicious attire.”, he smirked.

Robb blushed slightly, realizing it and swallowed, pretending to be fine, “Thank you, usually at the office they do not appreciate this outfit properly.”

The man laughed, loudly but softly and Robb could pinpoint a sting in his guts. He went closer, trying to help with the rumbles of what used to be a...

“Overgrown violin?”

“Cello – he sighed – I... well, it was not great anymore, but I didn't plan to make it end like this.”

“Are you a musician? - when he raised better his head from the wood to look at the neighbour, he realized who he was: the 2 am musician from the 3rd floor – Wait, don’t you play electric guitar?”

“Also.”

“Also? How much stuff can you play?”

“Cello, double bass, electric cello and guitar. - he replied, searching for all the pieces, then giving Robb a wink and adding, sultry – I'm good with my hands, Guns n' Roses boy.”

Robb coughed, almost suffocating. Damn, the hot boy was flirting.

“Ah, I...”

But the man was already looking somewhere else, not waiting for an answer. Probably he flirted a lot and not always seriously.

“This thing cost a lot didn't it?”

“This one, in particular, was slightly ruined. Not good for performances, but I wanted to give it to the children’s music school, for kids in training it’s good...”, he said half-mumbling, as if he was not thinking for real he was being listened to.

Robb blinked, “That's really a kind thing to do.”

“What? - he scoffed – No, lol, I'm doing it for the space in my apartment.”

Somehow, how shyly he lowered his gaze after those words made it clear for Robb not to trust those one bit.

“What's your name?”

“Theon.”

“Robb. - he smiled, holding out his hand – … you know, Guns n' Roses boy is a bit long, maybe you'd get tired of that.”

Theon laughed again, biting his bottom lips slightly and raised his eyebrows, while shaking his head.

“So, what do you do in your life, except helping musicians to collect their disastrous result?”

“Ah... I... - a lie, quickly!, what did he usually say? - I am a teacher.”

“You spoke about an office.”,Theon frowned.

“Schools have offices.”

Theon seemed to find it funny, maybe endearing, “And what do you teach?”

“Medieval history.”

“Oh, whoa, that sounds incredibly boring.”

Robb snorted, “Well... thank you for your honesty...”

“Sorry, but if I were one of your students probably I'd follow the course just to stare at your assets.”

“I'd probably give you a F then.”, he said smiling.

Theon's smirk returned to rise on his full lips, as a smug grin, his eyes were drunkenly half-lidded, and his hair fell gently on his shoulders, in a waterfall of jet black shading on ebony.

“Really? - he whispered, his voice suddenly liquidly smouldering – That would be a shame.”

Robb's fair skin turned quickly on the watermelon side of the spectrum as he mumbled, “I'm... are you hitting on me?”

Theon laughed, falling down and his face was almost against Robb's chest, so to raise it back while still laughing, “That was the idea, yes.”

“I'm sorry, I... Ahm... why?”

“... god, you truly are a nerdy thing.”

“...I'm... - he smiled – Can I... offer you a coffee?”

“I have ideas more suitable for your... outfit. - Theon admitted – But I will settle for a coffee, if, and I seriously mean if, you let me pick the place.”

Robb smiled, sucking his lip, “You're really quite cheeky.”

“I prefer enterprising.”,Theon corrected him, standing up.

“Can I help you with bringing this up?”

“Oh, don't worry, I can do it. - he winked – I'll come to take you in forty minutes... or do you need more time?”

“Forty is fine.”, Robb smiled wide, without noticing.

He felt his knees a bit weak and his bones turning to jelly.

Was that this...? He had a date, yes, a date he picked and nobody threw at him with matchmaking, blind dating, friendly tips, you should totally meet my cousin/coworker/babysitter shit.

That didn't happen since he came out.

Sure, being gay in a city the size of a crumb was not very good for statistical probability of getting dates, which was why he never really got angry at his sister's efforts to settle him down with any nice gay boy she met or knew, but they all turned out to be... not right? Robb found himself wanting to be nice, forcing himself to smile, but he never felt like he was being driven over and crushed by some amazing personality.

One could have said, he never really fell in Love.

His work didn't help with that, at all.

So he did try to make sure he smelled real nice, he really overdid on that perfume Jon got him for his birthday one year before, and his hair was pushed and repushed until on point and, damn, if he made sure that the jeans fit him nicely – while he prayed, he did, that Theon was not disappointed in the view of him in his underwear, since, if he flirted like that, for sure he had a good number of boxer views in his life ; he sat on his sofa, waiting for just a couple of minutes before Theon rang. He jumped, basically, opening the door in a rushed swift motion.

Theon, somehow, still seemed more put together than him – designer clothes, he figured – and his hair tied in a delicious bun that lost some locks, softly but systematically.

He bit his lips, without noticing, and the boy smiled wider.

“I take it you like what you see.”

“Your mom never told you you are blunt?”

“She taught me to be. - he winked – She also told me everything is allowed when you have this pretty face.”

“She was very right...”, he breathed in, between ecstatic and fighting back a boner.

Theon grinned, tilting his head, “Come, I got promised a warm coffee.”

“Cheeky.”, he smiled, taking the scarf, and as he moves closer he can see Theon checking out his ass and scratching his nape sucking his lips.

 

*

 

“Oh, c'mon, I can't believe this. You are making fun of me!”

“I swear! - Robb laughed – Dude was obsessed with lizards and asked me to use this crocodile scale-painted double dick with him, it was... well, not the weirdest thing I ever saw, but top three for sure.”  
“I'm not sure I want to hear the other two... - he munched slightly his inner cheek – Screw that, I need to know.”

“Do you want to hear before about ashtray asshole or the old dolls collectionist?”

Theon squinted his eyes, “This is a difficult question...”

“Then let's speak about you, mister Renaissance man... why do you know so many instruments? Trying to crash a world record?”

He shook his head, embarrassed, “Told you, I'm good with my hands...”

“Oh c'mon.”

“Fine. - breathed out – I learnt in prison. Had a bunch of time.”

Robb blinked.

“Ah, I...”

Theon's grin got wider and then he cracked, bursting out laughing in the coffee shop.

“God, your naivety is adorable...”

“I'm sorry, I... - he could feel his cheeks burning – There wouldn't be anything bad about it if you did, you know? I just didn't expect it...”

“It was a joke, don't fret.”

Robb nodded, sipping his huge latte with way too much cinnamon.

Theon blinked a couple of times, then raised an eyebrow, looking at Robb as one would at a child. His finger was quickly on his lip, taking away from it some of the cinnamon foam. He lingered a bit on it.

Soft, warm...

Theon stared at it an instant too much.

Robb closed his mouth, kissing the fingertip. His eyes were nailed onto Theon, studying the reaction and the quick gleam burning in his eyes.

Theon's hand moves back slowly.

“My mother was a musician.”

“Oh, whoa, that's... that's cool. So she taught you?”

“The classics, I picked up the electric ones on my own. - a little smile – My father kinda hated it but hey he had a mechanic, a football player and a hammer thrower as kids, so all the testosterone could have killed us if I picked up hockey.”

Robb snorts, “Three older brothers?”

“Two and a very scary older sister.”

“Oh... - he frowned – Well, I'm supposing she is, in fact, a bit scary.”

“More than a bit. - he bit his lips – And you?”

“Oh, uff... well, my cousin Jon is not technically my brother but he grew up with us until my aunt finished university, she kinda had him after a teenage adventure, and then there is Sansa, she dreams of becoming a wedding planner and she is responsible for many terrible dates of mine so I kind of hope she's better with other people, Bran studies maths, I don't understand anything he says of course, Arya is a little demon who we all hope will not end up in prison one day because she tends to get in a lot of fist fights with her classmates and Rickon is... well, in that age where the only thing you focus on are boobs, so.”

“That's why you became a teacher? You were always around kids?”

Robb swallowed, “Yes, I mean... it kind of gave me the idea, yes.”

“Well, my second guess was a rather severe kink for teacher student porn, so I guess I'm unlucky.”

Robb could feel his spine stiff and his pulse jump on his cock, so he emitted a chocked, strangled grunt and nodded.

“What? - a grin – Was that part of it?”

He should have told him the truth.

He really should have.

“Well, my students are pretty much kids, I prefer people who are, you know, old enough to actually have sex.”

Theon laughed, “Oh, god, sorry. Well, when I was a minor, had I met you, I would have probably fantasized about sucking your cock in the teacher room anyway.”

“...that's very flattering, I suppose.”

“Robb.”

“Yes?”

“You may find me a bit blunt.”

“I already got the hint you are...”, he smiled and so did Theon.

“Coffee is great and I like talking to you, which is not usually what I do on dates.”

“And what do you usually do?”

“Not call them dates, get a drink or two, fuck with them and never call again.”

Robb blinked, “Oh, whoa, that was a bit blunt, yes.”

“Buuut. - he stared at Robb with big pretty eyes and Robb had to focus to avoid slipping again in thinking how cute he was – I'm having fun and I'd like if the invite for coffee included a whatever else normal people do on dates.”

Robb grinned, victorious, happy as a child on Christmas eve.

“What about a walk? The city is beautiful and sunset is melting into the night.”

Theon stared at Robb's lips, imposing himself not to push him against the wall to kiss him roughly and hump him.

“Sounds nice.”

Robb kidnapped him a while longer; they walk in the whole city, up and down the street staring at ugly Christmas decorations and ridiculous gadgets like reindeer horn hats or Santa’s sexy outfits, Robb did his infamous imitation of a Muppet Christmas Carol which Sansa begged him to never do again in public especially near someone he hoped to fuck, but for some unknown reason Theon found it funny at the point he snorted and proceeded to pale in shame, they grabbed roasted chestnuts roughly the temperature to be found in hell and burnt their fingers laughing.

Theon seemed to move back a thought a couple of times, while his eyes kept returning on Robb; Robb's hand brushed on the side of his coat a time too much to be a case.

“So, you heard many of my private concerts?”

Robb coughed, “Yes, quite a lot.”

“I'm sorry. - Theon admitted – I'm a bit of an insomniac, so I tend to play at vampiric hours.”

Robb shook his head, “You keep me company, actually.”

“Hm?”

“I often work until late and... well, I'm not used to silence, never was, as you said I lived with an army of kids all my life. So, - he breathed out, looking defeated, sad – Silence is heavy. Like unrestful nights.”

“Restless, you mean?”

“Unrestful. - a laugh, embarrassed but sweet – You keep me company. And I always welcome a 3 am cover of Whole Lotta Rosie.”

“Really? - he grinned – Then you must be the only one who didn't sign up that building complaint.”

“I didn't, in fact.”

Theon shook his head, “I may use a singer, if you have time.”

Robb scoffed, “Ah, you don't want me to sing. I'm awful.”

A mischevious grin, “Oh please, you can't be so hopeless and you have the looks.”

“Then let's do it like this: if I ever commit and unforgivable crime that may be rectified only through absolute humiliation or I need to tell you I'm in danger but I can't speak cause I have a gun to my head, I'll sing.”

Theon shook his head, his eyes linger again on Robb's lips.

“I'll try to remember, in case we end up in a North to Northwest scenario...”

“Or maybe Notorious...”

A laugh, “Are you calling me a drunk?”

“Not exactly.”

Robb passed his hand on Theon’s waist and brought him close, lingering in his eyes, hesitating before bending; Theon's eyes got lit in a gleam and he moved closer, stealing a kiss. He forced Robb's lips open and invaded them sweetly enough to make him docile and rough enough to make his grip on his hips get tighter. Theon smirked, his sharp grin against Robb's now insistent lips searching for more warmth.

Robb didn't comment; as they part he just looks at Theon in a vaguely ecstatic expression, half-mesmerized half-imprisoned.

“Nice...”

Theon scoffed, “Nice?”

Robb sticks out his tongue, pulls Theon closer again and repeats “Nice” before kissing him again.

The ringtone broke the magic quickly, Robb sighed and pulled out his phone under a very perplexed, and a bit offended, Theon.

After a couple seconds, he can see a very happy red head appear on the screen, waving her hand enthusiastically. She looked like the spitting copy of Robb just... a girl.

“How are you?”

“San, do you mind? - Robb groaned – I'm doing something.”

“Me too, trying to make a video call, this new feature is exciting and I sent you like 20 pics and you didn't answer, so I figured if I wanted to know which of these look better for mom in your opinion I would have to... aaaaah! Oh god, he is so pretty!”

“Who? - Robb turned, frowning, finding Theon looking at the camera next to him – Ah, he...”

“Your boyfriend! - she clapped her hand – Oh god! He actually exists! I thought you were gonna admit today he didn't. Well, Arya bet on that five pounds, so I guess I won, more due to wanting to believe in you than actually believing in you, but, you know...”

Theon made a little laugh and Robb stiffened.

“Look, for...”

“He will come for tomorrows night, right?”, she grinned.

“What? Why?”

A groan, “Bran's birthday, Robb. The 18 th . Remember?”

Robb froze. Well, fuck.

Sansa sighed deeply, “That's not like you, did you overwork again? Do you have a deadline soon?”  
“Sort of, I'm sorry, I sleep like four hours per night lately.”

“That's unhealthy! - she turned to Theon – Boyfriend, keep him from working and make him cut out time for sleep, okay? Counting on you, umh...”

“Theon.”, he filled in, smiling kindly.

Robb hoped for the earth to swallow him. After that, for sure, Theon was not ever gonna want to see him again.

“Theon! Such a nice name. - she clapped again – Anyway, it's Bran's birthday, I'm sure that Robb when he was less with his head up in the clouds spoke to you about...”

“The mathematician, right?”

Oh, he did listen.

“Yes!”

“I must deduce you are Sansa. His descriptions didn't give you justice.”

“A flirty one. - she grinned – Of course, it couldn't have been Robb to make the first move, that one is damn shy, isn't he?”

“Not always. But he is endearing at times.”

Good actor, Robb thought, he can manage to lie so easily... somehow it burnt him a bit.

“May I count on you then?”

“Of course.”

“What?”  
“Why so surprised, Robbie? He was indecisive?”

“Ah... no, I...”

“It's at 8 pm, remember a present and bring a nice cake, deal?”

When Sansa puts down the call, Robb turned to Theon almost terrified.

“I'm so sorry...”, he breathed, half-mute.

Theon raised an eyebrow, “You faked having a boyfriend to avoid another lizard boy and proceeded to postpone telling her it was an excuse, forgetting the dinner? - Robb nodded – And then proceeded to get a date with me and realized this situation was to crazy for a first date?”

“Does all of this understanding lead to a better ending than me being kicked in the butt?”

A sigh.

“Look, walks and coffees are not my thing.”

“I...”

A grin, “But scheming and acting most definitely is. - he grabbed Robb's hands – Also, we can pretend it is a bit for a role-play foreplay, no?”

“...would you really meet my family after a date?”

“We don't have to pretend to be engaged. - a laugh – I'll be your boyfriend, whether we date or not, you need a date tomorrow night and in case we can just pretend we broke up.”

“...is it bad I find this kinda hot in its delirium?”

Theon smirked and kissed Robb's lips, biting the bottom one slightly.

“Just don't think this means I'm serious, clear? We are still at our first date, I'm just doing you a favour and saving you from going alone to a family dinner.”

Robb tried to hide a certain sadness, but Theon caught on it anyway.

“I know, I mean...”

“But maybe you should tell me what your real job that keeps you up with deadlines is.”

Robb inhaled, at first surprised by the wit of the other, then resigned.

“You promise not to run away after I tell you?”

“No, I'm not stupid. You might be a hitman.”

“Okay, good point, umh... - a groan – I... write... I write porn novels.”

“What?”

“You know that stuff like... she fucks the Italian gardener or it's the middle ages and incest twins try to take over the realm or prostitute discovers true love during a gangbang session?”

Theon blinked, his jaw almost dropped.

“Please, please, I know how it sounds, I, I wanted to be a historical drama author but there was no request and I have to pay the bills and...”

Theon got paler and his jaw was silently sliding to the ground.

“...I just... I prefer to write stuff I hate than never write at all.”

Theon blinked again and rolled his jaw up, his look getting sweeter, “It's not a bad thing per sé, it's just... I'd never expect it from... you.”

“I know. Only Sansa knows. And my cousin Jon sorta found out.”

Theon glared at him slightly, “I suppose it's more creative than being a teacher?”

“In a way.”, a weak laugh.

“...have I read something of yours perchance?”

“No 50 shades in sight, if that's what you meant. But Edward Dildohands got a movie.”

“Oh, my, god.”

“It's not something I'm proud of.”

“How? Like how did you think about that?”

“I mostly write when drunk and I may have had a terrible date with a man who said he wished sometimes he would have dildos instead of the hands, I, I don't... god this is the most embarrassing thing ever.”

Theon grabbed him by the shirt, “Fine, I see why. I won't judge you from the jingle then.”

“The jingle?”

“Like... the advertising jingle written to eat. Tell me about your opera. If you could write one thing, one great one, what would it be?”

Robb stared deeply into Theon's eyes.

You, he felt like replying.

He swallowed, “About a man who... tries to always do the right thing but feels... constantly unsatisfied because he misses something.”

“What?”

“A... friend, I guess, someone he can be himself with. - he forced himself not to reply “you” once again, he hated his brain and his dick right then – True Love, I guess.”

“In a middle ages setting?”

“Yes, I... - he looked redder, the colour of copper catching his cheeks – I had this idea for a novel... an unwilling king boy who... well. He falls in love with basically a family hostage.”

“Another boy by any chance?”, he asked, not laughing but smiling rather.

“Yes, but, of course... for once that he finds something he wants rather than something he has to do... then he can't have it.”

Theon lowered his eyelids, staring a bit more at Robb.

“That's very sad...”

“It is...”, Robb whispered.

Theon pulled Robb’s face lower and kissed him again, pushing the tongue into his mouth, beyond his walls. He could still taste the cinnamon.

 

*

 

Robb, of course, didn't actually forget Bran's birthday. He got him a present mid-November. He just completely forgot it was already that week and that the week was coming to an end.

He was a responsible brother, and not a completely responsible adult.

To his defence, his sleeping schedule truly was fucked up.

He stared at the white digital page in horror, rushing the deadline praying that Horsedick could in any way get him to finish paying his car, because he truly needed to be off the hook for at least one thing.

Theon rolled in bed, throwing his hands around his waist and rubbing his sleepy face against his thigh.

Fuck. He was cute.

Fuck. Wrong timing.

He picked his mobile up and took a couple of photos, then he forced himself to return to work. For a bit. It was hard.

Theon's pale neck looked even whiter with the deep purple marks now rising on the skin. God, he moaned so deeply, so fully, so darkly that Robb felt too worked up and aroused not to bite him and suck him.

He tasted so good and so did his moans.

Robb sucked his lips and closed the documents, opening another one, a new one.

 

_Nights are made to be filled with love, they say. They are made of dark velvet against which stars shine a weak tender glow that will sooth the ache of the pained hearts and set aflame the passion-drenched souls._

_Nights were always made for that, but he never felt it was true. It sounded so patronizing and silly of humans to think a part of nature to be created for them, to be a gift of the gods for their lustful – sinful, even, at times – delights and blisses._

_So he always thought, until he met..._

 

A whine, then a yawn,

Theon rubbed his eyes with the wrist and smiled at him, “Hey.”

“Hey...”

“Working?”

“Yup... how do you feel?”

“Like if I had a whole bull up my arse. - he laughed – I thought I was more trained than that.”

“I'm sorry.”, he lied with a smile.

“You are not.”, he bit his thigh then curled up his lips like a cat who saw something he'd like to play with.

“You are right, I'm not... - he tried to comment while Theon’s fingers were on his stomach, tracing lines – I was very afraid of the numerous competition you mentioned me.”

“I see. - he laughed – Well, you do work well under pressure.”

Robb almost snorts.

“I'm glad it was good.”

Theon kissed his cheek, then bent and whispered in his ear, “It was as one would expect from an erotic writer.”

Robb sucked his lips trying to hide the pride he was feeling.

“Oh, well, I-”

Theon's lips caught the others, it's almost a grab, an avalanche, he pulled him close and sank into Robb. His fingers dug into the soft auburn curls, keeping him close. Robb smiled in the kiss, threw the pc by side and twisted Theon on the bed, going over him.

A laugh, a choke, a moan.

Hands on the neck, teeth on the collarbones, groins rubbing.

Theon kept smirking, eyes closed, bliss taking over – and yet he didn't seem to believe it at all.

Like it would break the morning after, as lights of dawn pour themselves through the windows.

Robb sank into his flesh, sucking his blood dry, his hands now on the shaft, pumping it under the quick and wet moans running one after the other out of Theon's parted lips.

Theon's nails traced lines on Robb's back making him hard. He groaned, aroused and in pain at the same time, feeling pleasure sitting and pooling in his crotch. He sounded like an animal, choking down a roar, swallowing it before getting well-deserved revenge.

Theon licked his teeth, chugging down the delicious feeling of Robb getting harder against him, stiff and big.

“You are a weird one, aren't you?”

Robb frowned, his breath, still thick in arousal, chocked back.

“A bit, I suppose.”

“Bad decisions, one after the other, rolling like stones? - his fingers brushed on the chest, slowly, softly – And then you wonder how the fuck you arrived there.”

“Is this how you feel?”

“Most of the time. - he shrugged – The others, I'm drunk or hard, I mean, it's not like I can mope around all day.”

“That would be a waste of a pretty face.”

“Smooth for your standards.”

“Thanks, I just prepared it yesterday and hoped you to say a sentence after which it would make sense.”

Theon snorted and caught his mouth again, this time sucking his lips, not biting, just pulling them ever so slightly.

His fingertips burnt Robb's cheek, his knuckles set alight his curls.

There was something devastating in that kindness.

Because it was not obvious.

Because it was heartfelt and sincere.

And clearly unusual.

“I can't do normal, can I?”, Theon's eyelids fluttered.

Robb frowned, “Like?”

“Or I... fuck around or here I am, petting your hair hypnotized and caged up like an idiot... it seems I lack the ability to do things healthily.”

Robb laughed, “Healthy is a mask. Nobody has it all together unless they glue and imprison all their pieces. - he caressed Theon's black hair – I normally wouldn't fuck after one date and you normally wouldn't do anything else. But this is pleasant and, to be honest, statistically speaking, if we had to behave like people said we should, having two penises would already be against the rules.”

Theon gave him a weird smile, a bit childish, perplexed. He raised an eyebrow and shook his head a tad bit.

“You're weird.”

“Lizard boy weird or Hugh Grant weird?”

“I was thinking more Colin to be fair.”

“You didn't strike me as a Firth type.”

“I have huge daddy issues which I really hope you won't see in action any soon. - he laughed, ruffling Robb's hair – It will be already enough weird to meet your family today and pretend I know more about you than your sappy soul, your job and the size of your cock.”

“...now, since we're speaking about that...”

“Do you want to continue where we left?”, Theon asked in a grin, biting his bottom lip slowly.

“I thought you'd never ask.”

 

*

 

Robb's mother was surprisingly candid and well-mannered in her poorly veiled hostility, but softens as Theon named classical music. His father was much of a softer one, he just looks scary.

Sansa seemed the easiest sibling until then. Cousin Jon was a jerk and brooding and boring, he probably preferred Kylo Ren to Han Solo. Bran stared at him like he could read his soul which freaked Theon out. Arya was clearly a future serial killer considering how she ate her meat. Rickon, now Rickon was adorable, with his plush wolf, until he started speaking about how his wolf was the one who ate the Little Red Riding Hood grandma because she made crappy cookies.

He clearly got the normal one.

Robb looked mortified most of the time, but a couple caresses, knee against crotch, under the table seemed to have made him way more relaxed.

Theon acted divinely: he spoke about music school, his talents, his job, all in great terms with all those keywords that parents liked and described in detail the reasons why Robb was the sweetest thing in his life.

Of course they were all PG reasons, naming how great he was at fucking his mind blown would have been inappropriate for the table.

So when he asked to leave a second for the bathroom and Robb asked to follow him, everybody thought they were going to exchange some quick, sloppy kiss.

Theon was sitting on the sink, taking away Robb's belt as he kept him by the waist and kept kissing his neck. Theon moaned low-voiced with his wide grin making his lips wide and sharp like a hungry cat's.

Robb freed his pained erection and dragged Theon's trousers on the floor, deaf to his weak protests about them being expensive. His kisses tasted like rushed summer nights and fruity wine, as he laughed, Theon felt himself getting drunk on Robb.

“Nothing else matters” started making sense, somehow.

“I want you...”

Robb chuckled, “My parents are downstairs... we can't.”

Theon bit his lips and rubbed their crotches together, “I can be quiet.”, he whispers, voice like melted wax against Robb's ear.

A groan, an annoyed grunt, then a push.

Robb slammed him with the back against the mirror and opened his legs, starting to kiss his inner thighs and suck them, making Theon melt against him, unravel in moans and whines. His skin felt so good in Robb's lips... like it belonged there.

He grabbed some vaseline and Theon nodded, urging him, quickly, because they didn't have much time before their absence would get suspicious.

Robb's eyes shone lustful and feverish. His fingers felt scorching hot inside and Theon could feel his raw flesh melting like butter under his touches.

Robb found his prostate in seconds and started rubbing it, sending through Theon's nerves sparks of pleasure that made him writhe and jolt. His feet tensed up, his tongue rolled out.

Robb's fingertips circled and pushed, squished and tormented – it was heaven but hot as hell itself.

Robb had to put the other hand inside Theon's mouth to shut him up and muffle his moans as they'd get more and more slutty and needy.

Theon squat on the sink, taken by shivers trembling, while he comes once and then once again as Robb got fast and his the prostate directly, almost as a punch, slamming into it without any mercy. Theon's sperm spat all over them, but he can't complain- his mouth is filled by Robb's hand tensing at his throat as he'd like his other mouth to be tensed up too.

He doesn't have to ask.

Robb is in, all in once, in a moment and Theon arched around the cock tearing him.

Theon felt so damn tight still, so tense around him like he was trying to suck his cock in. And he was warm, god, so warm...

Theon leaned his head against the mirror, his panting whines echoes against Robb's neck, into his ears, tightened and thickened the blood in his veins.

Robb's teeth made their way on his collarbones, his hands dug space on the soft flesh on the back carving moans and groans out of Theon's mouth.

“You are not being quiet at all.”, Robb half-laughs against his chest.

“You're not very good at being commanding either.”

Robb pulled Theon's hair like he tried to stop a horse by the mane.

“Cheeky.”

He smiled and pushed deeper inside, faster, tensing him up and making Theon roll his eyes to the ceiling, ecstatic.

He let out a low, strangled, pleasured moan, while his fingers bent between Robb's curls, pulling him close, and fucking himself on him. He gained a groan and a kiss, Robb catching his lips and pulling them, biting them just before filling his mouth with his tongue and feeding off of his desperate writhes and moans.

Robb thrust harder, hitting inside Theon without pause or rest – shaken and bruised, Theon squirmed and bit his lips open, coming with a deep shiver and then welcoming Robb again, raw against his too sensitive skin, too big against his, now about to give in, flesh. He jolted around Robb, bent and liquefied in his own bliss, legs weak and cock still twitching.

He grabbed Robb and gave the kiss back, welcoming his hot seed.

Robb parted and breathed heavily, in and out, struggling to calm down.

Theon's dark eyes were so inviting he was tempted to take a new turn, but got a mischievous slap on the cheek.

“Your parents are downstairs...”

“...you are cruel.”, he pouted.

Theon grinned, staring at the cum rolling out of him, and put up quickly boxers and trousers, with a look that seemed to mock Robb for how stunned and enchanted he still was after a quickie. He pulled him close by the tie and pushed his tongue through his mouth, making Robb roar into it.

He was tempted by a second round, but the noises from downstairs forced both of them to calm down.

He went down first and stepped into the kitchen, searching for some kind of icy water to drown his boiling spirits.

Then a noise caught him from behind.

Sansa knocked on the doorstep making him startle, Theon was quick enough to hide his embarrassment with a grin; the girl came closer and took a lemon muffin from next to him, biting it gently.

Theon smiled to her out of courtesy and she gave it back with a mischievous gleam.

“I hope it was not awkward as a second date...”

“Wait. - Theon blinked, turning his neck so quickly it made a harsh sound – You knew?”

Sansa smirked, “I know my brother well enough.”

“Then why did you go along with it?”

“Well, he likes you. This way I ensured him to at least have to ask you out again. - she smiled – And with True Love, the amount of time you’ve known each other doesn’t matter, after all.”

Theon scoffed, “True Love? That's a bit fairy-tale like... I mean, we just started...”

Sansa didn't reply. She just raised her eyebrows and stared at Theon until he closed his mouth and pouting, glanced away.

 

 


End file.
